


When One Door Closes...

by WinterRose527



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Neighbors, SUCH FLUFF, literally no canon whatsoever, prompt, trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:00:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23902723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterRose527/pseuds/WinterRose527
Summary: Sorry for the obscenely cheesy title, but in all honesty you should know what you're in for. This is a prompt from the lovely Sansaclarkes who took pity on me when I hit writer's block for To Tame the Fury.This is... the complete opposite of that story! I hope you enjoy
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Myrcella Baratheon/Harrold Hardyng, Myrcella Baratheon/Robb Stark
Comments: 59
Kudos: 120





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sansaclarkes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansaclarkes/gifts).



_BANG!_

Myrcella shot up in bed, wondering briefly if King’s Landing was under attack. She had been in the middle of a much needed deep sleep, having a lovely dream, which had been unceremoniously interrupted.

When she was confident that they hadn’t been invaded she looked over at her alarm clock. _5:30_.

“ _Ughhmhhghhhh,”_ she groaned, laying back down and covering her face with one of her pillows.

This was the third time this week that she’d been woken up at 5:30 on the dot by her inconsiderate new neighbor. On Monday she had excused it. He was new to the building, and likely just didn’t realize how loud his door could be. She wasn’t an unreasonable person, she understood and she was fine with that.

But then it had happened again on Tuesday. Once more, she figured maybe he was _exhausted_ and had just forgotten. She hadn’t been able to get back to sleep but she’d caught up on some emails and done an at home pilates class and had actually gone to work ready for the day.

It had been a long day though, back to back meetings and she hadn’t finished until ten o’clock. Her company was always busy this time of year with the spring sales, but every year it snuck up on her. After she’d finished up at the office she’d had to run and pick up a dress she’d left at Harry’s and he’d convinced her to stay a little while and she hadn’t walked in her apartment until midnight.

She’d still had some emails to go through so she’d done that for another hour and worried for an hour more and it felt like she’d just gotten to sleep when _Bang!_

Once was a mistake, twice an annoyance. Three times was a declaration of war.

With that thought in mind, Myrcella shot out of bed and ran out of her bedroom, down the hallway, through the living room and opened the door. Much to her chagrin, the hallway was empty save for the vase of flowers on the side table outside the elevator.

She waited one more minute and then closed the door with a sigh. As she did she caught a look in her hallway mirror and a peal of laughter escaped her.

Myrcella wore a pink and white striped pajama set and her satin eye mask had fallen around her neck. Her golden hair was piled on top of her head, with wisps escaping in nearly every direction, and she still had two dark green circles on her chin where she’d preemptively applied acne spot treatments knowing that with the stress of the week pimples were all but guaranteed.

“ _Not_ exactly a look to inspire fear,” she pointed out to her empty apartment.

She thought she heard something in the hall and she closed the remaining distance to the peephole and peered into the hallway. Once again it was empty.

Myrcella thought about going back to bed, but knowing that her alarm would be going off in less than an hour it didn’t seem likely that she’d fall back asleep. She padded through her living room and into the kitchen and took out her Braavosi press, knowing that she would never make it through the day without a whole lot of caffeine. As she waited for the kettle to boil she went back into her bedroom and made her bed, placing her eye mask down on her bedside table.

She picked up her alarm clock to turn off her 6:30 alarm when an idea struck her.

The kettle started boiling and she ran back into the kitchen to turn it off, pouring the boiling water into the french press and mixing it with the ground coffee beans. She grabbed a mug and some oat milk from the fridge and doctored her coffee to her exact specifications.

Once she had that in hand she went into her living room and forewent the couch for the alcove window seat. It was her favorite spot in her apartment, one of the reasons she’d chosen this particular one, and she’d gotten lost in many books there. But now she was plotting something of her own.

She took a sip of coffee and looked out the window. The city was beginning to wake up, though there were very few people out on the street. It was still dark out, the purply darkness that settles right before the sun began to rise. Though she really could have done with more sleep, she had to admit that it was nice to have a moment of quiet before her day began.

Myrcella leaned her head back against the wall and wondered what she should do. She could just let it go, but it was hard to ignore what sounded like a bomb when it roused her out of sleep. And she didn’t like her emotions to fester. _Besides_ , the petty part of her brain pointed out, _I was here first_.

She had to wonder whether she was just annoyed at the new tenant for not being Olenna. Myrcella had adored living next to Mrs. Tyrell, a spunky octogenarian who liked to bombard her with dinner invitations and unsolicited advice. The woman had been everywhere, seen everything, and she enjoyed spending time with Myrcella since her grandchildren didn’t live in the city. She was glad that she was settled back in Highgarden with her family, but she couldn’t help but miss her.

Still, that wasn’t her new neighbors fault.

She hadn’t seen him yet but according to Mr. Pycella who lived in 20B, he wore gym shoes in the hallway. Myrcella did too, but Mr. Pycelle ignored that in favor of her more charming traits because he was a bit of a dirty old man. A harmless but odious dirty old man.

Myrcella didn’t care _what_ her new neighbor wore in the hallway, she just didn’t want to have to know when he was in the hallway.

She knew that she could complain to the building manager but she would never do that. For one thing, it wasn’t like he was setting the place on fire, and for another she wasn’t the type to hide behind someone else. She had also thought about writing a letter but dismissed that for the same reason.

The _right_ thing to do would have been to bring over some cookies and introduce herself. In fact, she had intended to do that on Sunday when he was moving in but she’d gotten stuck at the office and the eggs were still sitting in her fridge waiting to be used. At this point thought it would feel disingenuous to go over there under the guise of introducing herself only to point out ever so politely that he was being _really fucking inconsiderate_ and that this wasn’t the type of building to stand for it.

In the end, she wasn’t sure that the plan she landed on was really _better_ than any of the others but she walked back into her bedroom and set her alarm for the next day for 5 AM anyway.

***

_Slllllluurp!_

Robb was too used to this greeting to do anything other than wipe his face. His alarm would be going off in five minutes but as though he sensed it, Grey Wind always woke him up a few minutes before it beeped.

“Soon buddy,” Robb yawned, pulling his dog down into his embrace.

In spite of his eagerness to go for their morning run, Grey Wind laid down and rested his head on Robb’s neck. He reached for his phone and turned off his alarm, not wanting the obnoxious blaring to begin.

He stroked Grey Wind’s soft fur and tried to prepare himself mentally for the day. This would be his fourth day at his new company, and he was missing Tully Co. already even though he knew leaving was the right thing. He’d been there since graduating university and things had been different since his grandfather died. He loved working with his Uncle Brynden, but with his Uncle Edmure jockeying for a leadership role he didn’t have it in him to fight him for it, knowing that it was only a matter of time before he returned north to take the reins from his father as the head of Stark Industries.

His father had introduced him to Stannis Baratheon, the current head of Fury Corp. at a golf tournament in the spring, and he’d been sure to keep in touch. When a head hunter had approached him about the job leading their acquisitions team he’d done some research and felt like it could be a good fit.

It was too early to say, but it seemed now like he’d been wrong.

In spite of what Stannis had said, and what his title was, the company was really being run by Melisandre Priest. She only allowed devoted followers into her inner circle and the corporate culture was nothing like Tully Co. There, particularly under his grandfather’s reign, it had been like a family. There were regular happy hours and meetings had been about collaborating not competing. Nothing like the silence that met Melisandre’s regular sermons.

“What do you think?,” he asked Grey Wind. His dog let out a _hurmph_ sound which Robb felt in his bones. “Alright, up boy, I’ve gotta make some coffee and then we are going for an R-U-N.”

Grey Wind hopped up immediately, his tongue lolling out the side of his, very much proving the vet who’d insisted dogs couldn’t spell wrong. Robb got out of bed and went into the kitchen, making sure there was water for Grey Wind in his bowl. He pressed start on his coffee machine and grabbed a mug, scrolling through emails as he grabbed Grey Wind’s food.

He set his bowl down and then poured himself some coffee, taking it back into his bedroom. Things were still a bit of a mess but he’d unpacked his workout stuff and grabbed a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and some socks.

Once he was dressed he finished off the coffee, sent a quick email to his assistant asking her to set up a meeting for him and Davos later that day, and then brushed his teeth. He went back in the kitchen and saw that it was 5:28.

“Come on boy, we gotta go,” he urged.

Grey Wind trotted behind him to the foyer and sat perfectly waiting for Robb to put his leash on him. Living in King’s Landing he was more grateful than ever for the time he’d spent training Grey Wind. He had been a good dog from the start, and smart, but he was incredibly obedient and it was a good thing on the busy city streets.

He hooked his leash onto his collar and put on the wristband that would hold his keys. He considered grabbing his phone to listen to some music or a podcast but he thought better of it, knowing that these would be the only moments of silence he’d get today.

Robb unlocked the door and tried once again to pull it closed softly. The movers must have hit something on Sunday because no matter what he did the door wouldn’t really close unless it was basically slammed. He was intending to fix it over the weekend but in the meantime there was really only one thing to do.

Cringing, he pulled the door closed hard, and just like that _bang!_

“Come on, boy,” he whispered, though at this point he wasn’t entirely sure why.

He was about to press the button for the elevator when the door next to his opened. He turned to look and fought the urge to keep his mouth off the floor because standing there, wearing workout clothes of her own, was a goddess.

A really, really angry goddess.

“Are you aware of what time it is?,” she demanded by way of introduction.

“Uh yeah sorry -,” he started but she was clearly too worked up to let him finish.

“It is _5:30_ in the morning! 5:30! Every morning this week I have been woken up at 5:30,” she informed him.

“I….my Dad taught me the importance of routine?,” he suggested stupidly.

She blinked and then crossed her arms, “Are you being _cute_?”

He nodded, appropriately chagrined, and admitted, “That had been my intention, yes.”

She pursed her lips, “I’ve been woken out of a dead sleep _every morning this week_ and you’re…”

“That’s what you sleep in?,” he couldn’t help but ask.

In his defense she was wearing sneakers and definitely did not look fresh out of bed.

A blush landed on her cheeks and she looked down at herself, “Well… not… today… I…”

“You… set your alarm for 5 AM so that you could be here to tell me off?,” he guessed.

It was exactly what his sister Sansa would have done. Arya would have banged on his door at 4:30 AM to give her a piece of her mind. Or to punch him.

Thinking of his sisters endeared her to him. That and the fact that she really was absolutely stunning. And in the right.

She held her head high, “Well I thought I should introduce myself.”

“Please do,” he grinned.

She narrowed her eyes at him, “I’m Myrcella Baratheon… Welcome to the building and fix your door.”

With that she turned on her heel and opened the door to her apartment.

_Baratheon. Baratheon? What are the chances she’s related to Stannis?_

“I’m Robb Stark,” he offered more politely, with a good deal less cheek. She turned around slowly and he cleared his throat. Her light eyes were appraising him and it was very clear he had been found wanting so he looked down. Grey Wind was looking up at him happily and so he said idiotically, “And this is Grey Wind.”

“He’s very cute,” she sighed and then pointed at him with a stern look on her face, “This isn’t over!”

“I hope not!,” he announced with a grin.

But he said it to her door, right as it slammed shut.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't know, I was going to have this be only two chapters and then I had a bad night last night and a bad day today and I just wanted more of them? This story is going to be all about feeling and little bursts of fluff with very little plot so... just know that going in. 
> 
> Also it has become abundantly clear to me as I wrote this just how much I've been cooking during quarantine?? Anyone else? I'd love to hear what you think of the story, but also...who has new recipes? I have a great one for chocolate chip muffins which I discovered a few weeks ago. Link below.
> 
> https://www.littlesweetbaker.com/bakery-style-chocolate-chip-muffins-2/

“I actually _get_ to be pissed, you know that right?,” Myrcella asked into the phone as she waved _hello_ at the night doorman, Sid. She went to her mailbox and grabbed the few envelopes and magazines that were in there. “I could have stayed at work another few hours but I left _early_ so that I could come home and get ready to attend the event with you that I _told you_ I didn’t want to go to.”

“But see now you don’t have to, babe,” Harry pointed out.

She could hear his grin through the phone and she fought the urge to growl. She got into the elevator and pressed 20, grateful there was no one else in there.

“That’s not the point, Harry,” she sighed. “I think you know me well enough to know that I’m not the sort of girl you mess around… You know this wasn’t supposed to be a serious thing, maybe we should just -”

“No, no, no, no, no,” Harry cut her off, as he always did when she pointed out that this had started out as nothing more than a fling, and that he clearly wasn’t boyfriend material, and that she really _could_ do better. “Babe, I’m sorry, I fucked up, okay? I know that. Let me take you out tomorrow night and if I _can’t_ make you forget all about this then you can… throw a drink in my face and storm out…. come ON, I know you’ve always wanted to do that.” She giggled, she really _had_ always wanted to do that. He took the win and said, “I’ll text you details tomorrow. Night babe.”

She hung up the phone and shook her head. In truth, they were just delaying the inevitable. She’d known Harry through the years, the way people in their circle always sort of did. He had dated her prep school freshman year roommate, she’d partied at his family’s ski house in university. When she’d moved back to King’s Landing she had already been dating Dickon Tarly at the time, who was seven years her senior, and had started her new job, and everything was feeling very serious all of a sudden.

That was about the time that she started running into Harry at events. He was representing his family’s company, and not always well, and she was either attending at the request of her family, or Dickon. Her and Harry would catch up about silly old times, and he’d make her laugh by ever so subtly insulting other uppity party goers - so subtly that they could never tell.

Then they’d seen one another the day she’d broken up with Dickon. He’d proposed and she had known she wasn’t ready, and likely never would be for him, so she’d told him that she loved him but that it wasn’t right. She’d gone for a walk in the park and Harry had been there playing soccer with some friends. He’d ditched them and taken her for a walk, and then an iced coffee, and then an ice cream. He’d walked her home and he didn’t try to kiss her. He’d asked her out for drinks on a Saturday afternoon, and he’d kissed her on the cheek before putting her in a taxi. The next week he took her to see a double feature of the stupidest movies she’d ever seen, and they’d eaten too much popcorn and laughed like kids.

It was her who said, _Aren’t you ever going to try and kiss me?_

_Hadn’t planned on it,_ he grinned, _Not for a long time, Baratheon. I’m not ready for you._

She’d stood close to him and looked up at him and smiled, _But you want me anyway._

After a year with Dickon, Harry had been just what the doctor ordered. She’d never had a casual fling. There had been Trystane and Dickon, two very serious options - one or both of whom could have been _the one_ if she’d let them. So Harry was like a breath of fresh air, and came from too good a family for hers to intervene.

Even still they had well passed their expiration date. She really had no idea what was holding them together except good sex and similar friend groups. Though, from all of her friends’ relationships she knew that was more than most couples had.

In spite of being annoyed about Harry bailing on her, she was relieved not to have to put on a fancy dress and make small talk tonight. She always ran into clients at events and it just felt like work, but now knowing that Harry would be well occupied she could put on her coziest pajamas and watch an old movie.

_Maybe also make those cookies you were going to make?_

She had been feeling slightly rotten all day about her exchange with Robb, if it could even be called that. When she’d gone to bed the night before she had a whole speech rehearsed about how she’d be so appreciative if he could be more respectful of his neighbors, with some self-deprecating humor thrown in there to soften it. But then she’d woken up at 4:30 in anticipation and made coffee and had too much and had actually convinced herself that it _wouldn’t_ happen that morning so when it did she just kind of lost it.

For some reason she hadn’t imagined him to be young, more a Pycelle type, and she _definitely_ hadn’t expected him to be gorgeous. Not that that was why she was thinking about him. Not at all.

The elevator doors opened and she walked to 20A. There was an envelope taped to her door, which was a little weird because usually if the doormen found something that belonged to her they kept it at the front desk.

She tore off the envelope and walked inside, kicking off her heels and all but sighing in delight. She dropped all of her mail on the kitchen counter and went into her bedroom and pulled out grey joggers and a cream turtleneck sweater. She undressed quickly and brushed out her hair and washed her face before returning back to the kitchen.

Opening her fridge yielded no results. She hadn’t been around much this week and so she hadn’t shopped for food.

Figuring she could order in later if she got hungry, she pulled out the carton of eggs and the butter and shut the fridge, setting them down on the counter. She went into her pantry and pulled out brown sugar and white sugar, flour, vanilla bean, salt, a jar of nutmeg and all her measuring cups and spoons.

She melted the butter and measured out the sugars, beating them together until they looked like wet sand. The eggs went in and then the vanilla, and she was lulled by the steady beating. She’d been making these for so long that she didn’t need a recipe anymore, and she turned on her oven to 350 as she put the dough in the fridge to cool.

Her phone buzzed on the counter and she went to check it. It was a text from her mother reminding her about their plans for lunch and shopping on Sunday, and she sent a _Can’t wait!_ response that was only partially a lie.

The image on the front of one of her cooking magazines caught her eye, but when she went to the page with the recipe she didn’t think it’d have enough flavor so she kept flipping through. She tore out a page for a steak marinade that seemed like something Harry would like, and another for a raspberry tart her Uncle Jaime would.

She grabbed the dough out of the fridge and rolled it into little balls, placing them on the sheet. As she did so a million things ran through her mind. Whether she’d sent an email to Mr. Tyrell, where she and her mother should go for lunch, whether Harry was lying when he said he had to work late.

She’d never made him commit to her. She knew he wouldn’t and she had no desire to be made a fool of. She’d gone on the occasional date every so often, none of which had lead to anything much.

The only thing she’d ever asked of Harry was that he never lie to her. It was getting harder and harder to believe that he’d kept his promise.

She opened up the oven and placed the cookie sheet in, and grabbed a wine glass from her cupboard and the bottle of red she’d opened the other night. As she took a sip she figured she should look through the rest of the mail. It’d be mostly junk, but occasionally she got a letter from Tommen or a postcard from Shireen.

She tossed out the few pieces of credit card offers and other unimportant things and smiled when she saw that she had received a postcard from her cousin. On the front was a picture of a lagoon and on the opposite side Shireen had written: _I can’t wait to SEA you! So many stories, but so much more love! xoxo Shy_

She picked up another envelope and then saw that another one was attached to it by tape. Remembering that it had been stuck to her door she opened that one first. She took out the piece of paper, and in chicken scratch it said:

_Myrcella -_

_Please accept these as a small token of apology for disrupting your sleep these past few days._

_I would have gotten you flowers, but I figured these might be more useful._

_Your neighbor,_

_Grey Wind_

Grinning, she bit her lip. She looked in the envelope and a laugh escaped her. Robb, or _Grey Wind,_ had gifted her a pair of ear plugs. Robb had even drawn a little paw print next to the ‘signature’.

The timer dinged and Myrcella was so distracted taking the cookies out of the oven that she didn’t even notice the text she received from Harry.

***

Robb ran back to his laptop and double-checked the recipe. As he’d suspected, at no point did it say _burn the vegetables_. They hadn’t even been on that long but they already had a brown coating and a foul smell was emanating from the pan.

As though Sansa had the audacity to send him the recipe with the message _Here’s an easy one! Just make sure to put some flour on the baking sheet._

He was about to take the pan off the stove and start again when there was a knock on his door. He and Grey Wind looked at one another and then raced to it. He hadn’t set the mirror up at his front door yet but he lifted his arm and smelled his armpits. Thankfully they still smelled like deodorant so he adopted a casual stance and tried to open the door.

But nothing happened.

_Take pity on me, please,_ he begged the gods.

He jiggled the handle once again, but this time it cooperated and the door opened. Standing outside of it, as he’d hoped and nearly expected, was Myrcella Baratheon.

She was every bit as gorgeous as he remembered, wearing a soft looking sweater and a sorry expression. She was also holding a tray of what looked to be chocolate chip cookies - his favorite.

“Hi,” she said before he could say anything, “I brought these over to um… welcome you to the building. We got off to a kind of lousy start and -“

_BEEP, BEEP, BEEP._

“Thank you!,” he grinned, reaching for the cookies.

The plate was warm, which told him these were fresh out of the oven and he couldn’t wait to have one.

“Don’t you need to take care of that?,” she asked him.

“Oh it’s just the fire alarm,” he noted, wondering if it would be rude to lift up the plastic wrap and have one right in front of her. But then he’d heard what he’d said and emitted, “Oh _shit_.”

He ran into the kitchen to see it clouded with smoke. Grey Wind was barking at the smoke detector and Robb was torn between waving a towel at it to fan it or opening a window.

He decided to start with the cause of the problem and took the pan of vegetables off the stove and turned it off, and opened a window. He then grabbed a dish towel and started fanning the smoke detector, when all of a sudden it stopped.

Looking around, the smoke had started to dissipate and then he felt a breeze of fresh air and looked to his right. Myrcella was standing there, having opened the door to his small balcony.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t just have come in,” she blushed, stepping back towards the door.

“No, no, no,” he shook his head, holding out his hands to stop her. “It’s um, fine, thanks for … the cookies and making sure Grey Wind and I don’t suffocate.”

“Interesting priorities,” she teased with a small smile that beckoned a wide one of his own.

He was about to explain that he was cooking dinner, which was new to him, when a grouchy old voice shouted, _“Hellooo,_ ” and then immediately began coughing.

Myrcella’s eyes went wide and she stage-whispered, “Let me do the talking.”

He nodded at her and then she turned on her heel. Grey Wind and Robb wordlessly followed her, the latter of whom resisted looking at her butt while the former was intent on sniffing it.

“Mr. Pycelle!,” Myrcella exclaimed in a tone of voice he hadn’t heard from her.

“Ohhh,” the old man grumbled, “I didn’t expect to see you here, my dear. How’s your grandfather?”

“Oh he’s a boor as always,” Myrcella waved him off, “I was just welcoming Robb here to the building, since my manners have been remiss. Have you two met?”

Robb started to say _no_ but was interrupted by the old man who definitely _was_ looking at Myrcella’s butt before turning and grumbling, “No but I had a mind to. Young man are you _aware_ that every morning at 5:30 you have been banging your door?”

Robb nodded, “Yes sir, that has been brought to my attention. My apologies, something was broken during the move and I’ll be fixing it this weekend. First week settling in and all that.”

Mr. Pycelle nodded in a non-committal manner and breathed out, “Yes well, I-“

“Have your geraniums bloomed yet?,” Myrcella asked him at random.

The old man turned to her with a smile, “They have! You must come over and see them,” and then glanced at Robb, “Some other time.”

Myrcella hooked her arm through his and nodded, “Oh that would be wonderful, I can never quite get mine to cooperate and Olenna always said you had the magic touch.”

The old man blushed and breathed out, “Yes well, I-“ All the while Myrcella was guiding him out of the apartment. He turned back to look at him though and said, “Young man, this is a _quiet_ building.”

Myrcella turned and gave him an _oh shit_ expression and deposited Mr. Pycelle back at his door. Robb waited for her in his doorway and she turned around once Mr. Pycelle’s door had closed.

“You’re not really going to go _look at his geraniums_ , are you?,” Robb wondered.

He imagined Myrcella could take him but even still the way the old man looked at her was down right predatory.

“Of course I am,” Myrcella confirmed and then smiled, her face the picture of innocence, “At some point…” Relieved he nodded and she looked around the hallway, “Well, enjoy the cookies… and sorry again for this morning… that’s not the way I had planned having that conversation.”

In truth he’d found the whole thing pretty endearing so he pointed out, “Well it probably wasn’t the way you expected to be woken up either. I really _am_ planning on fixing it this weekend.”

She nodded and then her brow furrowed, “You know how to do that?”

“Fix a door?,” he wondered and then shrugged, “I mean I never have but yeah, can’t be too hard.”

“Most guys down here would call someone,” she noted.

He grinned sheepishly, “Not really my style… if you ever need anything fixed, I’m…pretty handy.” She looked at him blankly and he groaned, “I meant that _genuinely_ not in like a…” A slow smile spread on her face and he realized she was fucking with him. “Oh I see, pick on the new guy, huh?”

She shrugged and then confessed, leaning in as though she was sharing a secret, “You’re making it kind of easy.”

With that she turned to head back to her apartment and he really didn’t want her to leave, so he stepped out into the hallway.

“Do you want to come in for dinner?,” he asked.

She turned towards him and raised a brow, “Well… are you sure you can scrape it off the pan?”

He chuckled, “Not at all. But I’m game to try if you are.”

She pursed her lips and then said, “Why not?,” and walked right past him, offering over her shoulder, “It’s been too long since I had a nice case of food poisoning.”

***

The apartment looked so much different than it had when Olenna lived there. She’d known that it would, there had been a crew in there in the weeks between her moving out and Robb moving in.

She liked the dark green the kitchen was now painted, but she couldn’t help but miss Olenna’s old fashioned light blue and cream wall-paper that had begun to lift at the corners but had cost a fortune decades earlier.

Robb looked over at her and he picked up the pan off the stove and set it down in the sink. He turned on the water full blast and a disgusting smell emanated from the sink.

“Good lord,” he shuddered and she couldn’t help but smile.

Something told her that even if he was adept at fixing doors, cooking was not his strong suit. It was sort of cute that he had tried though, and it reminded her of her first year of work when she’d been intent on doing her own taxes for the first time, rather than sending them to her family’s accountant.

“So what were you making?,” she wondered.

“Pizza,” he told her and then went to the kitchen island where a laptop was open and turned it towards her, “My sister told me it was an easy recipe but…”

Myrcella gestured towards the computer and he nodded so she stepped next to him. Up close he drowned out the smell of smoke. He smelled like fresh salt air and peculiarly like snow.

He looked down at her and she looked away from his blue eyes and towards the computer.

“This is easy,” she agreed with his sister. “You’re really just going to toss it all on.”

She looked up at him and he looked at her blankly, the way she probably would if someone explained how to fix a door to her.

“Do you have anymore vegetables? Another pan?,” she prompted.

“Vegetables yes,” he nodded and then his brow furrowed, “Another pan…no.”

“Okay,” she figured, though she couldn’t really imagine only having one pan. She figured that she could go grab one of hers and wanted to make sure there was nothing else she should get from her apartment while going over there. She looked on the ingredients list and around the counter which was empty, “This says you’ll need oregano and basil… do you have that?”

He nodded and went to his cupboard and said triumphantly, “Oregaaa…,” and opened it and then stopped, “No.”

She brushed Grey Wind’s snout away from her butt and stroked his head, “I hope he’s better at feeding you than he is himself.”

The husky groaned and rubbed his head into her hand so she scratched behind his ears.

Robb was looking at her, clearly unsure of what to do next so she said, “Why don’t you bring the things you do have over to my apartment? I have an open bottle of wine that I’ll never get through alone before it goes bad and I should have the rest of what you need.”

“Are you sure?,” Robb asked, “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“I’m sure,” she realized, “Besides I have nothing in my fridge to make so really, you’re saving me ordering greasy takeout.”

He smiled at her and nodded, “I’ll um, get everything together and meet you over there in a second.”

“Alright, I’ll leave the door open,” then turned to leave. To her surprise she had a four-legged companion. She turned to Robb, “Um… I think he’s coming with me.”

“Sounds good,” Robb said, as though it was perfectly normal for his dog to just go off with strangers.

Though, he had invited a total stranger to dinner so maybe that was just how they did things in the North. She wasn’t entirely sure how she knew he was from the North, his accent wasn’t very pronounced. There was just something about him that reminded her of a man she’d met ages ago from there, some old friend of her father's.

She went into her apartment and grabbed a large mixing bowl and filled it with water, placing it on the floor for Grey Wind. She then turned on her oven, which was still a little warm, to 400 and grabbed a baking sheet, a pot and a sauté pan.

Opening her pantry she brought out olive oil and oregano, crushed red pepper, some black pepper, she went into her fridge and grabbed out some fresh basil, garlic and an onion.

Robb appeared a moment later, his arms piled with vegetables and cheese, pizza dough and a can of tomatoes. She helped grab things out of them and set them down on the counter.

She grabbed a wine glass for him and picked up the bottle and gestured to him. He nodded so she poured him a glass and handed it to him. His fingers brushed hers as he took it and she felt a blush rise on her cheeks. Ignoring it she turned away and looked at the ingredients on the counter.

“How are you at chopping?,” she asked him, picking up a pepper.

“Well, not to brag but… it’s the only thing my mom ever let me do in the kitchen,” he teased.

She chuckled and handed him the pepper, pushing the onion and garlic and basil towards him. After she’d given him a cutting board and a knife, she poured some olive oil into the pot and turned on the stove.

“So are you new to King’s Landing, or the building?,” she asked as she grabbed the onions he’d chopped and pointed at the garlic for him to chop next.

She tossed some of the onions in the pot, hearing that familiar sizzle, and the rest in the pan before grabbing a spatula out of the drawer.

“Both,” he said and carried the cutting board over to the pan and gestured. She nodded and he scraped the garlic into the pot as well. “I uh,” he started and then stopped so she looked up at him. “I think I may be working for your uncle actually…”

“You’re at Red Keep?,” she wondered.

He didn’t seem the type, but she’d only known him for about fifteen minutes so there was no way she could really know that.

“No, Fury Corp.,” he corrected.

“Ohh, with good ol’ Stannis the Mannis,” she nodded.

He chuckled, “I don’t think I’ll call him that.”

She smiled, “I really don’t recommend it. The man is devoid of all humor. Davos on the other hand…”

Robb grinned, “Is a _legend._ ”

There were no arguments from her. She’d known Davos most of her life, and he was a more a father to Shireen than Stannis ever had been, and was a great CFO. After her father died, Fury Corp. likely would have gone under if it wasn’t for his helpful guidance.

She hadn’t been at all nervous with Robb there beforehand, but was even less so now. It was strange, maybe it was the way he’d let her just yell at him this morning, or the ear plugs and cute note, or the fire he’d nearly started in his apartment over some cookies, but there was something about him that was just so _comfortable_. It was an unnatural feeling for her, but she felt for some reason like she could trust him.

He finished chopping the peppers and gestured to them. She pointed to the pan and he threw them in there.

“How do you like it so far?,” she asked.

“It’s good,” he lied.

She didn’t know how she knew it but she did.

“Mel can be a bit tricky,” she dangled, going back to her island to pour some flour on the baking sheet. She took out the dough and started to stretch it with her hands, “Do you mind stirring those?”

He did as she asked and then turned around and she felt his eyes on her. She knew he was weighing what he could and couldn’t ask, could and couldn’t say.

She’d never had much to do with her father’s company when he was alive, even less to do with it now - though she had more shares in it. Even still she knew that it had been a difficult work environment ever since her father’s passing, and had only gotten worse as Mel’s influence had grown.

“What can I do to help?,” he asked. “I promise I did not conspire to have you cook me dessert _and_ dinner.”

She smiled, “Well the cookies were for yelling at you, and dinner is for the ear plugs…actually the cookies were for welcoming you to the building, so I’m still down a meal.”

“Well I’d say you could take me to dinner, but I’d really prefer to take _you_ to dinner,” he told her. She looked over at him and he colored, “I’m sorry, that was super forward and your uncle is my boss and we got off to a _really_ bad start but… I really would like to take you to dinner.”

Seventeen different emotions went through her at once. Happiness, guilt, excitement, nerves, all of it. From the look on his face she was fairly certain each one of them was obvious on hers.

“I…’m sort of seeing someone,” she explained.

He nodded and told her graciously, “I’d be surprised if you weren’t… is it serious?”

She flattened the dough onto the pan and went to the stove and stirred the vegetables again. She then picked up the jar of tomatoes and grabbed a can opener. He took it from her and opened it and she pointed to the pot and he poured them in, picking up the spatula and stirring them amongst the garlic and onion.

Myrcella grabbed the oregano and tossed some in the pot and then the crushed red pepper, “Are you okay with spice?”

“The more the better,” Robb told her.

She shook some in and stirred everything once again. The sauce had started to bubble so she turned down the heat and covered it.

“I don’t know,” she told him. He glanced over at her, “If it’s serious, or not. It… it isn’t. And we aren’t exclusive but…”

“But you still don’t feel right doing that to him?,” he guessed.

“No,” she shook her head, “I don’t feel right doing that to you.”

***

It was inevitable that she would be lovely.

Lovely was not a word that he often used, but it was really the only way to describe Myrcella. She was beautiful, of course, it was the first thing he had noticed about her, but as they ate dinner it was the last thing he found himself focusing on.

She had a warm laugh and a sharp wit, and on the second glass of wine she’d tugged a little bit at the thread and he’d admitted he was struggling a little bit in his new role. She’d explained some of the history that no one at the company was comfortable saying. That when her father was running it, Melisandre had been Stannis’ assistant, but had never been satisfied in that role. There was more she wasn’t saying, he was sure of that, but she’d given him some helpful advice on how to work within the new regime.

She’d told him a little about her job and a little bit about Harry. The guy who wasn’t her boyfriend but was nevertheless the reason she wouldn’t go out with him. Or at least, the reason she was citing. He wouldn’t have faulted her for rejecting him regardless. While he wasn’t exactly a wilting flower he was rarely so bold as ask to ask a girl out without any preamble or a bit of history.

There was something to her though that made him not want to wait.

Even still, if they were just going to be friends - he felt half way through his first piece of pizza that they was no way they would be just polite neighbors - he was a lucky guy. He didn’t know many people in the capital, but even if he had she’d be at the top of his list.

She held up her crust and gestured towards Grey Wind, “Can I?”

“Sure,” he said and she got up from the table.

“I have something for _youuu_ yes I _dooo,_ ” she practically sang at him.

He sat perfectly for her and she ripped off a piece of crust and fed it to him. Though he was a bit of a pig, he took it from her gently and his tail flapped on the floor as she told him what a good boy he was. She fed him the rest of the crust and when she came to sit back down, Grey Wind followed her and curled up at her feet.

“He’s a bit of a flirt,” she pointed out.

“An incorrigible one,” Robb agreed, though Grey Wind was rarely like this with anyone other than his siblings. It made him wonder, “Did you grow up with dogs?”

“No, my mother is allergic - at least that’s what she says. My brother Tommen got a cat when we were in high school that will probably outlive us all, but I always wanted a dog,” she told him.

“Maybe you should get one,” he suggested. “Grey Wind could show ‘em the ropes on the whole _how to be a good boy_ thing.”

“Grey Wind has his PhD in goodboyology,” she said as she leaned down and stroked his head. “My hours are so unpredictable though, I’d feel awful having a puppy… But maybe I could adopt an old dog that needs a nice place to live out the end of is life!”

He grinned, “I was mostly kidding but that’s a great idea. I think there’s actually a shelter around the corner…”

Myrcella hopped up and ran out of the dining room. Grey Wind got up and trotted after her. Robb picked up their plates and brought them into the kitchen and by the time he returned, Myrcella was sitting back at the table with an opened laptop, Grey Wind sitting next to her with his head on the table.

“Grey Wind,” Robb said. Grey Wind looked at him pointedly. Myrcella put her hand on Grey Wind’s head and he lowered himself to the floor immediately. “Unbelievable.”

Myrcella gave him a toothy smile but when she saw him picking up the platter with the rest of the pizza she shooed him off, “Leave that, come look at _Zadie._ ”

He chuckled and walked around the table, getting behind her. Zadie was one of the most pathetic looking creatures he’d ever seen. She only had one eye, was at least 30% overweight, and had a smattering of other ailments.

He leaned forward looking at the other thumbnails, “Click on Scooter.”

“How on earth do they come up with these names?,” Myrcella wondered as she clicked on the image.

Scooter was some sort of collie mix, “Nevermind, he’s gonna need a big yard.”

She clicked out and into another, “Maurice!”

He leaned forward to read the description, trying not to be distracted by his proximity to Myrcella. It was hard though, up close he realized how many different shades of gold were in her hair, and she smelled like something flowery and peculiarly like something that made him think of sunshine.

“Wait,” Myrcella said though he hadn’t spoken.

“This…,” he started.

“Is my dog,” she finished.

Maurice was an old black lab mixed with something else - maybe even some husky. He was eight years old and had it pretty tough over the last couple, having been abandoned by his owners when they moved across the country. In spite of that, according to his description, he was a _cuddle bug_ , who would be a good guard dog but very well behaved. He had no medical issues and he was available for adoption _immediately_.

“This is absolutely your dog,” he agreed. “You need to fill out an application right this second.”

He grabbed his chair and pulled it closer to hers as she opened up the application. She was mumbling something about whether they wanted a blood sample when Grey Wind stood up and growled.

A moment later a loud knock on the door interrupted Myrcella’s typing.

“Were you expecting someone?,” he wondered.

“No… maybe it’s Pycelle with the geraniums…,” she giggled, standing up. “Keep typing,” she ordered as she ran towards the door, “Make me sound responsible!”

Grey Wind trotted after her and Robb filled out Myrcella’s address and put himself down as a reference. He’d have to lie about how long he’d known her, but he could attest to how much of a dog person she was.

“ _Oh, hi,_ ” he heard Myrcella saying.

She sounded nervous, or how he would imagine she’d sound if she was nervous, so he set aside the laptop and walked through the dining room into the hall. There was a guy with his arms around Myrcella’s waist, and her hand was on his chest seemingly pushing him away. Robb cleared his throat and they both looked over at him.

“What’s going on?,” the guy all but slurred, “Who the fuck is this?”

Myrcella rolled her eyes, “I just told you, this is my new neighbor Robb.” Then looked at him with an apology in her eyes, “Robb, this is Harry.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a really long one so bear with me! I probably should have broken this up into multiple chapters but... I didn't! 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

“Okay do you have the screwdriver?,” his Dad asked.

“ _Yes, I have it_ ,” Robb chuckled.

He had showed it to him and confirmed it twice but his Dad hadn’t quite gotten the hang of the whole _video chat_ thing. They usually had his sixteen year old brother Rickon on tech support just in case, but considering it was 10 AM on a Saturday there was absolutely no way he was awake.

His Mom had answered the call, inquired about his health, whether he was eating, if he’d made any friends, and told him when to expect a care package and then said _Alright I’m going to run some errands_ and left his Dad there holding the phone as though he knew what to do with it.

“Show me the door,” his Dad ordered.

Robb lifted up the phone and showed him the side of it.

“Dammit why is it showing me my debit balance? Can you see that? Am I being hacked?,” his Dad wondered in rapid fire.

“Dad just click out of it,” Robb grinned.

“There are no damn buttons on this phone to click,” his Dad grunted. “What the - _Shaggy get your nose outta there_.”

“Maybe he can do it for you,” Robb suggested.

His Dad was too preoccupied wrestling with the phone to comment on his sass, but years of experience told him that he had heard and that he wouldn’t forget it. While Robb was pretty eager to get the door fixed, he honestly didn’t mind waiting for direction as his Dad was dragged kicking and screaming into the 21st century.

He’d been away from home for a while, so they were all used to it, but he still missed Saturdays at Winterfell. There was always something to do, some part of the estate that needed seeing to, or one of his siblings would need help with a science project. His mom would be cooking much of it, and dogs would pile in front of the fire or in sunbeams in the center of it all.

Robb leaned against the door frame, “Dad swipe your finger.”

His Dad’s face, which was entirely too close to the camera appeared for a brief moment before disappearing again. He was mumbling about who the hell could have downloaded so many games on his phone when Grey Wind’s ears perked. He had been laying in the front hall, taking a nap (after a very busy morning of sleep), but suddenly he was up and standing next to Robb in the doorway.

A moment later, Robb understood why as he heard Myrcella’s door unlocking. She appeared with a yoga mat under her arm, wearing black yoga pants and a white tank top, her golden hair parted in two pig-tail braids.

Grey Wind ran over to greet her, and she smiled wide.

“Hi handsome!,” she greeted his dog and then looked over at him and her smile turned softer, more shy, “Hey Robb.”

“Hey,” he greeted her all casually as his heart desperately tried to escape his chest.

As though the gods had been bored enough to conspire against him, it was at that moment that his Dad popped back onto the screen.

“Who’s that, is that the girl you told me about?,” he asked.

Myrcella colored, but smiled, and there was really no use in denying it now.

“Yep,” Robb admitted and then pointed out, “And you’re on speaker phone and she can hear you.”

“What am I looking at?,” his Dad asked. He was currently facing Robb’s chest. “Point me towards her.”

Myrcella closed her door and stepped towards him, “Hello Mr. Stark.”

Robb turned the phone towards her because there was very little reason he could offer not to.

“Oh it is you!,” his Dad exclaimed, “I had a feeling, I mean…how many Myrcella Baratheons in the world are there? But I uh… well you probably don’t remember me but I met you -“

Myrcella’s eyes went wide and she stepped forward, “At my father’s funeral, of course,” then glanced at him, “I should have put it together before.”

“Oh no reason you would even remember me, there were a lotta people there. How you doing, sweetheart? I know that must have been hard on you and your brothers, I should have stuck around but I figured with all your uncles and…,” his Dad trailed off.

Myrcella’s cheeks were pink but she was smiling at the screen. His father had an effect on women, and they had an effect on him. All of his gruffness melted away in the face of them, and in returned girls young and old gravitated towards his steady, kind nature.

“No it’s okay,” Myrcella told him, “Thank you for coming to it at all. I know, well I think that you two had a bit of a… I know you weren’t all that close, towards the end, but it would have meant a lot to him that you were there I’m sure. And we’re all doing fine, thank you.”

“Alright well Robb is just the next door over if you need anything, day or night don’t worry about bothering him, okay?,” his Dad offered.

He really could be a great wingman sometimes, offering something that Robb would have if he could.

He hadn’t seen Myrcella since Thursday night when Harry had interrupted what had otherwise been one of the best nights he’d had in some time. It had been rather impressive, watching Myrcella deal with him. The guy had strut in like he owned the place, grabbing a slice of pizza off of the platter and taken the seat that Robb had clearly just vacated.

_“Harry, you need to leave,” Myrcella informed him, “I’m serious.”_

_Robb had glanced at her, wondering if he should intervene and she shook her head._

_“I wanted to see you, babe,” Harry informed her._

_“Well, you should have thought of that before cancelling on me earlier. Come on, up, Sid’ll get you a taxi,” Myrcella ordered sternly._

_Harry had then turned and looked at him, “You should really fix your door, man,” he told him before eating an inhumanly large bite of pizza, chewing as he spoke, “Manners, dude.” Then turned and cooed at Myrcella, “This is yummy.”_

_He tried to take her hand but she batted it away, “I don’t care Harry. You can’t just show up like this, I would never do this to you. Now go home and sleep it off and try to think of a way to make it up to me.”_

Harry had seemed somewhat chagrined then and gotten up, mumbling apologies. Myrcella had seen him to the door and closed it, before apologizing and explaining that he was _rarely_ like that.

Robb didn’t understand what she saw in him at all. The guy was good looking enough he supposed but to him, he was just another example of an average guy who had somehow gotten an extraordinary girl. It didn’t seem like Myrcella was the type to put up with a lot of bullshit, and the only explanation Robb could think of was that she didn’t care enough about Harry to be bothered about it.

Which was its own kind of tragedy in a way.

The night had been somewhat salvaged, but the cozy atmosphere hadn’t fully returned. They’d filled out the rest of her adoption application and cleaned up. She’d packed up the rest of the leftovers for him and asked _so if these ear plugs don’t work, I get to kill you right?_ He’d told her that it seemed like a fair deal and she’d closed the door behind him still laughing.

He hadn’t seen her at all yesterday, but he’d thought about her. More than he’d like to admit. Especially last night when he knew she was on her date.

Myrcella avoided his gaze but nodded, “Thank you, Mr. Stark. It was nice to see you again but I’m running off to a yoga class,” she informed him and now Robb had to contend with the mental image of her _bending_. “And if you show him how to fix that door, I will be _forever_ in your debt.”

“You got it, sweetheart,” his Dad agreed.

She pat Grey Wind’s head, waved at him, and then pressed the button for the elevator.

“Well you’re right, she’s lovely,” his Dad told him.

Robb colored and Myrcella’s rigid stance made it perfectly obvious she had heard him. The elevator dinged and the doors opened and Myrcella stepped inside. She turned around and pressed the button and her eyes wandered up, seemingly against her will until they were on his.

“Yeah, Dad,” he agreed and offered right before the doors closed, “She sure is.”

***

“No,” her mother said before the sales woman could even return with a gown that really was more orange than red.

Myrcella gave an _I’m sorry_ smile to her - her fourth of that Sunday afternoon - and picked up a blue, white and green floral top that was structured enough to wear to work but cute enough that she could wear it with white jeans to brunch on the weekends.

Her mother glanced at it but said nothing and and grabbed a burgundy cocktail dress and handed it to her. Myrcella accepted it but didn’t put the blouse back in spite of her mother’s obvious disapproval.

Another sales woman came over and took the garments from her to add to the already full dressing room, and Myrcella’s eyes were caught by a pale blue gown across the boutique. She didn’t really need a new one but there was always another event to go through, and when she got a bit more sun it would be a beautiful color on her.

She went to see what it would look like up close. There were a couple of girls nearby laughing loudly at something on one of their cell phones, their arms full of clothes.

“Wait, _remind me who this is again_?,” one of them asked.

Myrcella had picked up the gown and was admiring the stitching on the buttons in the back when the other girl answered, “Harry Hardyng, remember we met him on Thursday?”

“Oh yeah,” the first one giggled, “He was _all over you_.”

Myrcella felt her cheeks color and she turned to bring the gown back to the dressing room. Unfortunately it seemed to have caught her mother’s eye, or maybe she’d just followed her, and she was now standing right in front of her.

“Myrcella,” her mother started.

“Let’s just try this stuff on,” she asked, “You can say anything you want over lunch just…,” and then she sighed dramatically, “Just….don’t ruin _THE GOWN_.”

Her mother’s face turned beautiful once more as it went from a stern expression to a smiling one, “The only thing that could ruin _that_ gown is another girl wearing it.”

She pressed a kiss to her mother’s cheek. Cersei Lannister was an absolute nightmare, overbearing, and not at all a good person, but she was her mother and there had never been a day in her life that she’d doubted her affection.

The pair of them made it through their dressing rooms. At one point Myrcella handed her mother a pair of trousers that would look better on her, and her mother had insisted she take the cropped silk jacket they’d both tried on.

She hadn’t really needed anything, but there was nothing she’d bought that she didn’t love, and after a stressful week and whatever that was in the store, the weight of the shopping backs on her arm felt comforting.

It was a beautiful day outside so her mother sent her driver on ahead and they walked down the small side streets to a little restaurant that had a beautiful back garden and an impressive wine selection.

Her mother ordered an Arbor Red and a green salad and Myrcella ordered a jasmine tea and the selection of berries. They got a small cheese plate to split.

Myrcella sat in the sun and her mother in the shade, and amidst the various aromas of food there was honeysuckle in the light spring air.

“Is Uncle Jaime alright?,” Myrcella asked.

Her mother started, “Why wouldn’t he be?”

Myrcella brought the delicate tea cup to her lips and shrugged, “We’ve been playing telephone tag but he seems intent on seeing me. I was thinking of dropping by later but you never know where he’ll be.”

“No, you don’t,” her mother said with a hint of annoyance. After a slight shake of her head and without really answering her question, her mother moved onto the topic that had clearly been plaguing her, “Myrcella this… _flirtation_ with Harry has gone on too long.”

Myrcella lowered her sunglasses onto her face, “I know.”

“It’s beneath you,” her mother went on anyway, and said, “I’m not suggesting that you need to settle down or anything just yet, in fact I think you should hold off on that for as long as you can… but I hate to see you degrading yourself with someone below you in -“

“Don’t make this a family thing,” Myrcella pleaded. She didn’t have the stomach for it.

Her mother straightened her already straight back and informed her, “I was going to say character and intelligence. But yes, now that you mention it, he’s a second rate playboy from a second rate family and I don’t know how you can stand hearing about his… dalliances wherever you go.”

Myrcella looked at her mother, the full weight of her gaze tempered by the darkness of her glasses. There was something to the way she said it. There was the defensiveness, the haughtiness, the protectiveness that she so often saw in her, but there was something else too. Her mother was afraid for her.

Afraid that she’d turn out like her, most likely.

Her father’s infidelities had been well-known and varied, and while towards the end of his life her mother had seemed unbothered, it had to have hurt in the beginning. Their engagement, like so many others, had more calculation than love but when they’d married her mother had been the greatest beauty and the greatest heiress of her generation. The golden girl.

That light had been dimmed by betrayals and too much wine, and Myrcella had often imagined that it was that which was most unforgivable. It wasn’t just that her father had cheated on her mother, it was that in doing so, he’d made her lose herself until she had become a person that nobody could fault him for avoiding.

Her mother had spent so long trying to mold her in her image, that Myrcella had no idea there were parts of herself that she was afraid of sculpting.

“You’re right,” she told her. “I’ll end it. It was just mean to be a bit of fun, you know, after Dicky.”

Her mother smiled at her in the way that she only did when Myrcella had taken her advice, “You’ll see, darling. You’ll be so much happier when you don’t have to worry about where he’s been, or what he’s done. Fun is fun, but it’s unstable ground to build your life on.”

Myrcella nodded and sipped her tea, as her mother listed the qualities she should be looking for in a man, and she tried not to think about how all of them seemed to lead her back to one place.

***

“ _Oh come on, get it!!,_ ” he heard and Robb glanced back at the television.

He had the college lacrosse championship on and Jon Snow on speakerphone as he unpacked and set up his living room.

“Their defense sucks this year,” Robb said of their alma mater, Vale University.

“HOW HARD IS IT TO RUN TOWARDS THE BALL???,” Jon was shouting and Robb grinned.

They had gone to university together, both for rugby, but the head lacrosse coach had seen them play and recruited them to the lacrosse team as well. By the end of it, they preferred it to rugby, and as co-captains their junior and senior years they’d lead their team to first place.

He rarely watched games, only when he went back to the school for an alumni event, but he and Jon usually watched the championship games together. It had been unusually sentimental of Jon Snow when he texted him that morning asking about it.

“ _What?… Nothing… Well the defense…,_ ” he heard Jon saying.

“HI SANSA,” Robb called into the phone.

“Hi Robby!,” his sisters melodic voice answered back.

Grey Wind ran towards the phone and whimpered.

“Say something else, Dovey,” Robb said.

“Well, I’m just about to start making dinner and,” Grey Wind’s tail started wagging even as he looked around for her.

She told him about what she was making and how her week was, asking about the new job and the new apartment and wondering if he’d watered the plants she’d sent. Like Grey Wind he gravitated towards her voice and took a seat on the couch and caught up with her and Jon. The game was pretty much forgotten as they did.

“So…,” Sansa said, “Dad said you met someone?”

Robb groaned, “When did he become such a gossip?”

Jon chuckled, “I don’t think he was really gossiping… he _mentioned_ it and Sansa sniffed out the story.”

“I’m not a _dog_ , Jon,” Sansa argued and Robb grinned.

It had been a little weird at first when they’d gotten together, but Sansa had dated enough assholes that she deserved someone as good as Jon. He’d never seen his best friend more at a loss than when he had to deal with the overwhelming love he had for Sansa, and she took care of him too.

Jon was in the middle of a story when Grey Wind got up and raced towards the door. He started scratching at it, which wasn’t normal.

“Guys he’s gotta go out I think,” Robb told them, picking up the phone. He went to the foyer, knowing that only _severe_ discomfort would lead Grey Wind to act like this. He opened the door, “I’ll call you-“

But then Grey Wind raced out of the apartment and at an unsuspecting Myrcella who was weighed down by shopping bags.

“Oh!,” she exclaimed, as Grey Wind all but herded her, his cheek against her legs.

“Sorry!,” Robb said, going to go grab him, “He’s usually way better behaved.”

“He’s an angel,” Myrcella argued as Grey Wind sat down on her feet, her hand lovingly stroking his ears.

She looked up at him and gave him a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Wearing a white wrap top and a pair of jeans she looked beautiful, but somehow heavy of heart.

“ _Shush_ ,” he heard over his speaker phone, “ _I think it’s her_.”

Which made this the second time in two days that someone in his family had made it perfectly obvious that he had been talking about her. And in this case he really _hadn’t_ been.

Robb hung up on them without saying anything further. Myrcella was still looking at him and he didn’t take his eyes off of hers.

She gestured behind him, “You fixed it, it seems. I mean I didn’t get woken up this morning…”

“Yeah my Dad helped me in the end,” Robb told her, “Took him a while to get the whole thing sorted but…”

She nodded and looked down at Grey Wind, bending at the middle to kiss his head. He had only really met her three times before this but she seemed different than she had any one of those. Even when she’d been annoyed she’d been vibrant, but there was something about her now that was dimmed.

“Is everything alright?,” he asked, though it was none of his business.

She kissed Grey Wind’s head and gave a weak smile, “Everything’s for the best.”

He had no idea what that meant but he had a feeling that she’d only ever tell him exactly what she wanted him to know. For some reason she seemed used to it, keeping people at a distance. He had been welcomed into her home and at her table, they’d laughed, and he’d felt as though they connected, but a girl like her had a million sides to herself for every one that she showed him.

“Oh, I um,” he changed his tune, “I have your platters to give back to you. Do you want to come in for a sec while I grab them from the dishwasher?”

“Oh, I can just,” she started to shake her head but then she looked down at Grey Wind, “Sure. Why don’t I just drop these off and I’ll be right over.”

He nodded at her, and was unsurprised when he went back into his apartment that Grey Wind didn’t follow him. The apartment was in transition, some things having been unpacked, while others hadn’t. He ran and really quickly picked up a shirt he’d discarded after his run earlier and tossed it into is bedroom, and then at least rinsed the dirty dishes in the sink.

Myrcella’s apartment was immaculate. However, unlike her Uncle’s offices at Fury Corp., they weren’t sterile. Her place was incredibly _cozy_ for lack of a better word, but there hadn’t been a hint of dust anywhere, and he was sure she was the type of person who couldn’t stand to go to bed with dishes in the sink.

He opened the window by the sink in case he and Grey Wind had unwittingly stunk up the place — as he’d been accused of by Sansa once or twice.

A moment later Myrcella appeared with Grey Wind at her side. She looked like she may have splashed some water on her face or something, and she tried for another smile.

“Hey,” he said again and she gave him a small little flutter of her fingertips.

He opened up the dishwasher and grabbed the two platters that she’d leant to him, one for the leftover pizza and the other for the cookies. He lifted them up to double check there was no residue on them and then crossed around the island to hand them to her.

She took them and looked at them and then at him and then down again, “There were a… lot of cookies…”

The tray had been piled with them on Thursday night, and had dwindled consistently over the past few days. He’d had his last one with lunch today, and he and Grey Wind had looked at it like they were in the desert and running out of water.

“Oh yeah uh…I brought them into the office,” he said and then shook his head, “What, no I didn’t. I’m sorry I don’t even know why I said that, I ate every single one of them except the ones Grey Wind did and they were _delicious_ and we’re animals and I’m not going to apologize for it.”

An adorable giggle bubbled up from inside of her, and for the first time that afternoon a smile seemed to reach her eyes.

“I’m glad you enjoyed them,” she told him. “Good to know I’ll have an audience when _insomnia baking_ strikes.”

“Yeah I’ve got to be honest, I’m struggling between wanting you to sleep and wanting to know what comes out of your kitchen when you don’t,” he joked, “At the moment I’m like 90% wanting you to sleep, but I had your last cookie a few hours ago so once that high wears off it’s likely to come down to an easy 70%.”

She smiled, but it was another sad one, “I like honesty.”

There was a tightness in his chest looking at her. She looked very young standing there, and if not heartbroken than at least like her heart was tired. Far too tired for a girl her age.

“Myrcella,” he started.

At the same time she opened her mouth to inform him, “I ended things with Harry.”

Seventeen different emotions went through him all at once. Excitement, apprehension, sadness - for her, elation - for him. The way she looked at him assured him at least that each of these were not present on his face.

He cleared his throat, “Myrcella I’m -“

“Don’t,” she stopped him, “Don’t tell me that you’re sorry. I just told you that I like honesty, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, yeah you did,” he agreed, “So let me honestly tell you that I think you made the right decision, but that doesn’t mean I’d ever want you to be upset.”

***

She believed him. It made almost no sense to her, she rarely believed anything that anybody said, but she believed him.

“Thanks,” she said after a moment. “I’m fine though.”

He looked at her, those blue eyes of his wandering over her face, and told her, “I like honesty too.”

Guilt churned in her stomach. It had been a lie, that was true, but it was more a lie to herself than anything. She didn’t know why she felt this way, she couldn’t explain it.

She’d never fallen for Harry, not truly anyway. There had been the rush at the beginning, the occasional butterflies when he smiled at her a certain way. But they’d never gotten further than that. He’d never been the person she brought things to. So it wasn’t loss that was nagging at her, it was regret.

_“I’m sorry, Harry,” she told him._

_“Don’t be,” he shrugged, “We were never going to last. You made sure of that.”_

_“I did?,” she started to argue, thinking of the girl in the boutique and all the others._

_He looked at her, “You kept me at arm’s length and you know it. And with you arm’s length feels like a million miles. I’m not saying I was perfect, far from it. But would it really have mattered if I had been?”_

He’d had a point. She’d been so certain that he couldn’t be trusted with her heart that she’d never really given it to him.

She looked at Robb and shrugged, “I don’t know what to say.”

He nodded at her and then said, “Let me guess, you don’t like to be hugged.”

A smile tugged at the corner of her lips, “Not usually, no.”

He took the platters out of her hand and put them on the island, and then took a small step towards her. Perhaps he’d heard the exception in it, the one she hadn’t meant to include but had snuck its way in there all on its own. He opened his arms slightly and the only real thing to do was to step into them.

For the first time since it’d happened, she felt the urge to cry. Something about feeling his arms wrap around her, his hard muscles under his soft t-shirt. The way she somehow knew he wouldn’t move until she did.

She let her arms wrap around his back and leaned her cheek against his chest. His heart was beating rapidly but every movement was slow as he tightened his grip around her.

“You’re good at this,” she informed him.

“I’m not exactly sure what this is,” he told her.

She wasn’t sure either so she burrowed into him a little bit more and she felt one of his hands move up to rest on her hair.

“Myrcella, can I take you somewhere?,” he asked after a minute.

Dread filled her. It was only natural that he would ask, she wasn’t exactly holding _him_ at arm’s length. But she’d meant what she said the other night. He wasn’t the sort of guy to come to halfway, half-heartedly.

Robb Stark deserved all of her. Even if she wasn’t sure yet that she deserved all of him.

“Robb I…,” she started, regretfully pulling out of his arms. She looked up at him, his hands were still on her waist and they felt so good there that she found it hard to speak. “I don’t, I shouldn’t have… I don’t want to jump into anything just yet. You know I… started things with Harry after getting out of a pretty serious relationship. I don’t think a new guy is the answer. Even if it’s one as great as you.”

He looked down at her, his eyes filled with sadness and hope and something else she hadn’t seen in some time.

“I don’t want to be your new guy,” he told her. And it wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. She heard the rest of it in her mind. Or more accurately in her heart. Somehow she knew it without him saying a word. “Even still, let me take you somewhere. It’s close by.”

She nodded, “Do I need anything?”

“I just have to make a quick call, why don’t you go grab your ID,” he told her mysteriously.

She fixed him with a look and he gave her a _do you trust me?_ grin and she didn’t have it in her to say no.

Without another word she took the platters and went back into her apartment and put them away, then grabbed her ID and a credit card out of her wallet and put them in her jeans pocket. She opened her hall closet and grabbed out a lightweight jacket in case the wind had picked up, and then ushered Grey Wind back out into the hall.

Robb was standing there with a small smile on his face, and Grey Wind’s leash in his hand.

“Ready?,” he asked.

She nodded and he pressed the elevator button. He didn’t try to take her hand, and it was her who stood close to him and not the other way around. Robb didn’t seem to mind though and when the elevator door opened he guided her out with a gentle hand on her back.

She smiled at Sid and was surprised when he and Robb high-fived on their way out. If her old doorman was surprised to see them together he had too long been in his profession to show it and merely opened the door for them.

The breeze had picked up and she pulled on her jacket. It was still golden hour though, and looking up at Robb she noticed the bits of auburn in his hair.

He looked down at her and gave her a small smile and then crooked his elbow. She raised her brow and he said, “I don’t want you to focus on where we’re going.”

She hooked her arm through his and he started leading her. He was adept at distraction, which was vaguely worrisome, and he kept her entertained with stories of his unpacking woes, the end of his conversation with his father the other morning in which he’d been hung up on three times, and a myriad of other charming anecdotes.

Before she knew it he was opening up a door and she was greeted by a strange smell. He gave their names to the woman at the front desk who nodded and opened a door for them.

She knew where they were immediately and she looked up at him, tears filling her eyes without permission.

“You were wrong,” he told her as he walked her through. “Myrcella, you deserve someone that is going to be loyal to you, protect you, love you unconditionally. It is the very least you deserve, but it is going to make you happier than you could ever know.” He stopped them then and it was a testament to his irresistibility that she didn’t look anywhere other than his eyes. “But you were right too. I’m not going to be your _new guy_. Someday, when you’re ready, I’m going to be _the_ guy. I know that’s a crazy thing to say but I think you know it too. But for now, there’s someone I think you should meet…”

She turned from a pair of blue eyes to look into a pair of amber. The latter was looking at her with no less interest but a good deal more sadness.

Robb opened the door, holding Grey Wind back, and Myrcella went down to her knees. She held out her hand and smiled at him.

“Hi Maurice.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is nearly... 9,000 words? No idea what overcame me. I hope the approx. 6 of you who are reading this enjoy!!!
> 
> Also, I haven't updated the tags for this story because I'm sorry but I want it to be a teensy bit of a surprise. Just know that if you follow my other stories it won't be a total surprise for you (all fluffy, promise).

_Bang!_

Myrcella woke out of a dead sleep and looked at her alarm clock. It was 5:25 AM and she groaned but then sat up and looked around.

Sure enough, there was a black pile on the floor.

“ _Oh Mo_ ,” she cooed, getting out of bed and lowering to the ground. She stroked his head, “Did you fall out of the bed again?”

He laid his head in her lap and sighed as though that _was_ what had happened, and she leaned down and pressed a kiss to his head. His tail thwacked on the ground, though the rest of him didn’t move.

“Did you need to go out?,” she asked sleepily.

She pet him once more and then went into her closet and stepped into her sneakers. She turned around and was unsurprised to find him there. Ever since she’d gotten him a couple of weeks ago, he’d been her constant shadow. If he wasn’t so old she might have changed his name officially, but as it was she had just shortened it.

She brushed her teeth and then Mo followed her down the hall where she grabbed his leash out of the closet. He sat dutifully for her and she couldn’t help but smile at him in spite of the early hour as she attached the leash to his collar. She opened the door to the hallway and pulled it closed shut.

Just as Robb was doing the same thing.

“Hey!,” he grinned.

_How does he look like this before 6 AM?_

Unlike her, he was dressed to go for his and Grey Wind’s run, wearing navy blue shorts and a grey t shirt. She hadn’t bothered to check what she was wearing, but she wouldn’t be surprised if it was something satin and pink.

“Nice outfit,” Robb teased and she had to look down.

_Well I was half right…_

She was wearing a white and pink striped pajama set, which thankfully was thick enough that it wouldn’t be see-through in the light.

“Mo opts for casual Fridays,” she informed him.

“ _Isthatright_ ,” Robb said adorably through his teeth, scrunching his nose.

He stepped forward to pet Mo who had been busy greeting Grey Wind. Mo’s entire body started wiggling and he ran through Robb’s legs back and forth as Robb pet him. Grey Wind came over and presented himself to be pet, which she was happy to oblige.

When all of the necessary greetings had been taken care of, Robb pressed the button for the elevator. They didn’t speak as they waited, and she wondered vaguely if she smelled alright.

When they stepped into the elevator she realized that _he_ certainly did. He always smelled nice though. She didn’t even mind what he smelled like after his run. It wasn’t her _favorite_ or anything, but it wasn’t terrible.

He looked over at her and she rubbed her eyes, trying to rid them of the sleep that was probably there. This wasn’t the first time they’d run into one another in the hallway, but she was usually going and he was coming, and she’d at least splashed cold water on her face.

“Early start?,” he guessed.

She pet Mo’s head, “He fell out of the bed again.”

Robb bit his lip, clearly trying not to laugh. They couldn’t really figure out _why_ Mo kept falling out of the bed. She had a king after all and it wasn’t like he was sleeping at the very edge.

It was just one of those things though. One that she hoped he’d grow out of. Like how he only ever ate half his food, as though afraid he might not get another meal.

There were others though that she hoped he didn’t. Like how when she knelt down he’d sit on his hind legs and wrap his front legs around her neck until she hugged him back, or how rain seemed to turn him back into a puppy, trying to bite at the droplets his tail wagging a mile a minute.

“Poor Mo,” Robb said finally, looking down at her dog.

She followed his gaze and watched Mo look back up at Robb and all but smile.

They had bonded rather quickly, him and Robb. He liked to sit in between the two of them, one paw on her, the other on him, a deep, satisfied sigh emanating from him. He and Grey Wind were fast friends as well, and though Grey Wind was a little more upbeat, Mo held his own.

She nodded, scratching Mo’s head. Though in truth he looked like he’d won the doggy lottery and knew it.

The elevator doors opened and they stepped into the lobby, waving _hello_ to the doormen and then walked into the cool spring morning air. There was a bit of grass to the side of the building and another one of Mo’s _things_ was that he refused to go on pavement so she walked him over.

Robb and Grey Wind followed them as Mo sniffed around for a good spot.

“Aren’t you guys going for your run?,” she wondered.

“Yeah, we’ll wait,” Robb told her.

She blushed, “You don’t have to.”

“Are we bugging you?,” he asked curiously.

“No, of course not,” she promised.

“Then we’ll wait,” he decided.

She nodded and Mo continued sniffing. He could not be rushed so she looked away, giving him a semblance of privacy.

“D’you have anything fun going on this weekend?,” Robb asked.

She hadn’t really thought about it. Now that the spring sales were over she was looking forward to getting her life back, but things had been a little weird since her break-up with Harry. He was apparently on a bit of a tear and though she knew her girlfriends would rally to her side she didn’t really feel like choosing which place to go to based on where he was. She didn’t even want there to be sides at all, but he as getting a good deal of sympathy over the whole thing and milking every drop of it.

“I don’t know,” she told him, “I might try and see my older brother Gendry tonight. Fridays are usually tough for him, because he owns a bar in the West Hamlet, but we’ll see.”

“I thought your older brother was Joffrey,” Robb said.

She nodded, “Gendry’s my half-brother, on my Dad’s side. Him and Joffrey are a few months apart, but nothing alike. Gendry has a soul, for starters.”

Robb smiled and then stopped smiling, obviously thinking about all she’d said.

“Would you…,” she started and he glanced at her, “I mean… I think you two would get on really well actually. He’s a great guy and I know you still haven’t met that many people, so if you’re not busy… maybe you’d want to come out with us?”

A smile overtook Robb’s face that beckoned one of her own and not for the first time she felt that stab in her stomach, or maybe a little bit higher. She felt it when he’d taken her to go see Mo, and the next day when he’d dropped off a bunch of chew toys and treats. She’d felt it again when they’d eaten dinner that Thursday night, sitting on his couch in their sweatpants and eating right out of the containers as they talked about how to set up the living room.

More often then not she felt it when she was with him. She knew what it was, and she knew it wasn’t going away. The only thing she didn’t know was how to tell him. How to ask him.

So she did silly things like this.

“Yeah…,” he said, as though he didn’t care if she was silly, or that she moved at such a strange pace. “That’d be great. Let me know if you’re going to and um…”

“Yes?,” she asked hopefully.

But just at that moment Mo saw something that made him bear his teeth. She dug her heels into the ground and got into the stable position Robb had taught her.

“Mo,” she said sternly.

Still he started walking forward. She pulled his leash a bit, not wanting to hurt him but also not wanting him to take off and her with him.

Mo yanked forward and she would have fallen, but then there was another hand on the leash in front of hers, and one on her waist steading her.

“Mo!,” Robb said in a quick, hard snap of his voice and just like that Mo turned around and presented himself to them.

“Thanks,” she said, her heart rate returning to normal.

“No problem,” Robb said, “He just needs a bit of a firm hand with that.”

She nodded and his hand left the leash, but he didn’t let go of her waist. She could feel the warm of his hand through her pajamas and she knew that goosebumps had risen everywhere except where his hand was covering.

Regretfully she stepped out of his grasp and turned around.

“I’ve been practicing,” she told him, “That voice I mean. I was practicing in the shower the other day but he just thought I was calling him and he tried to climb in.”

Robb chuckled and pet Mo’s head, muttering something that sounded like _attaboy_.

“He’ll get there,” he assured her, “And so will you. You guys are doing great together, it’ll just be a bit of a learning curve.”

The woman at the shelter had told her as much, and she knew that in reality they were miles ahead of where they could be. For the most part, Mo was an incredibly loyal, easygoing, sweet dog, and when he did things like that he was always standing right in front of her. Protecting her from some unseen foe.

So really she couldn’t be too frustrated with him, she just needed a bit more practice.

“Are you all done?,” she cooed at Mo and his tongue lolled out of his mouth. She grinned and looked up at Robb who was smiling too, “So um… enjoy your run, and your day and… maybe I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah,” he said, “I’ll see you later.”

She gave Grey Wind a final pet and then brought Mo inside. His dog walker would come mid-morning, but his knees weren’t great so she never took him for walks before work.

She got in the elevator and only after she’d pressed the number _20_ did she remember that she never found out what Robb was going to ask.

***

The day wasn’t going by quickly enough.

They rarely did here, but never when he knew he was going to see Myrcella afterwards. Even when he didn’t, just the thought that he _might_ see her made the minutes tick by slower and slower until he felt like he might go insane.

It was insane, he knew that. He’d known her less than a month, but she dominated his thoughts in a way no girl ever had. The sight of her this morning, fresh out of bed, completely rumpled and absolutely irresistible had nearly done in him.

And he’d been this close to asking her out. Asking her out for real. Not to sit on his couch and eat noodles out of a carton, or when she invited him over for leftovers.

He wanted to ask her on a date. He’d wanted to do that ever since she’d told him no the first time.

Even still, it was probably for the best that they’d been interrupted. He’d promised himself that he’d let her come to him when she was ready. It wasn’t that she really seemed to be in mourning over Harry, but just that he knew that when they did get together it wasn’t going to be a fling and he’d pieced together that before Harry that there had been someone else. That she hadn’t really been on her own for very long, and though she seemed to know who she was more than just about anyone else, he didn’t want to take her time away from her.

Even still, when she’d asked him to come out with her and her brother it felt like it meant something. And sometimes the way she looked at him made him feel like maybe, just maybe she -

“Robb?,” his assistant Clara poked her head in.

“Yes?,” he cleared his throat and shuffled his papers as though to seem like he’d been working.

“There’s a young woman in the lobby who is asking for you,” she said and then sort of grimaced, “She won’t give her name though. She said _tell him it’s no one_. I… It could just be… would-“

He grinned and stood up, the papers and just about everything else long forgotten, “Send her up, please.”

Clara gave him a look but nodded and disappeared. He grabbed his cell to see if he had any texts or missed calls giving him warning but there weren’t any.

He straightened up his desk slightly and then Clara returned and stepped into his office. A small, dark-haired girl walked in after her. She had wide grey, kohl lined eyes that seemed to be brimming with annoyance, and a quirk to her dark painted lips.

“Thank you, Clara, please give us a moment,” he requested formally, and the grey eyes rolled.

Clara nodded and stepped outside, closing the door behind her. He stepped out from around the desk as she looked around.

“I don’t like your office,” she told him.

“Well, I don’t like your make-up,” he told her.

She glared at him and he glared back and then she stuck her tongue out him and he opened his arms to her. She ran the remaining distance and jumped into them and he held her tight.

“Arya,” he sighed.

He felt her burrow into his neck a little, “Hi Robby.”

He wanted to tell her that Mom and Dad had been hoping she'd turn up. That it had been too long since she’d answered their emails, or his. He wanted to tell her that wandering aimlessly wasn’t the same thing as finding yourself.

But there was something in the way she said it that stopped him.

So all he said was, “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Sansa would have let him hold her a little longer. Arya was always the first to pull away from a hug, even if it was one she’d initiated. Especially then.

He set her down and she looked up at him, “I was hoping you’d say that. I could use a place to crash.”

He regretted then not having the guest room set up. He wasn’t expecting any visitors for another month, so he hadn’t pushed back when the store had pushed the delivery of the bed out another couple of weeks.

“I’ve got a couch,” he said and she raised her brow, so he sighed, “Which I’m sure _I’ll_ be very comfortable sleeping on for as long as you want to stay.”

She giggled briefly, a real one, and it was worth the neck pain he knew he’d have tomorrow.

“I um…probably don’t have to stay the full day but I do have a meeting in a half hour that I have to go to,” he told her and then stepped away and went into his briefcase and grabbed his keys. “Why don’t you go back to my apartment and hang out. There’s some food I think in the fridge. You can um, take a nap or a shower and do some laundry. And I’ll be home as soon as I can. You’ve got the new address, right?”

She nodded and took the keys and headed for the door.

“I don’t _really_ hate the office,” she told him.

He smiled at her, “I really _do_ hate the make-up.”

She gave him a smile and turned and walked away, and he saw as Clara stood up and watched her go. She still moved like a cat, graceful and sure - though only she knew of what. He wondered what Clara would think if he told her that was one of the greatest heiresses of the North, and that no, it didn’t mean she hadn’t stolen anything on her way out the door.

He sent a quick text to his parents and Sansa and Jon letting them know that Arya was here and she’d be staying with him for a little while. His Mom wanted him to urge her to go home and his Dad wanted to make sure she was alright. Sansa wanted to know everywhere she’d been and Jon wanted to know if he should come down here.

His family went a little crazy when it came to Arya. In spite of nearly perfect grades she’d foregone university in favor of traveling. His parents had thought it would be a year and supported it, and her. But then it was the second year and the third and still Arya had no plans to come home.

She appeared, every so often, always with a story or two, but never stayed for long. She’d wanted to go as far West as West went, and last he’d heard she’d moved onto the other directions.

The only one who never seemed to worry about her was Sansa. The pair had bickered viciously as kids but now seemed to have an understanding between them. They loved each other fiercely, and defended each other to the rest of them.

_She’ll come home,_ she always said, _When she’s ready to have one._

He had seen in the sense in that, but it didn’t make him less worried when they went for weeks without hearing from her. Arya could take care of herself, but that didn’t mean he stopped being her older brother.

Clara poked her head in, “Do you need anything, Robb?”

“No, thank you,” he said, “I’ll attend the 3 o’clock meeting and then I’ll be leaving for the day to spend some time with Arya.”

“Of course,” she nodded and then looked at him curiously, “Is she… your girlfriend?”

Robb glanced at her. It was an entirely inappropriate question, but he was nearly used to them from her by now. She hadn’t been his choice, she had been placed at his desk and he wasn’t entirely sure she didn’t really report to Mel. He’d replace her if he wasn’t sure that the next one would be turned just as easily. Besides, she was a competent girl who didn’t deserve to be used the way Mel obviously intended her to. It had been his second day in the office when Clara had made it perfectly clear that she was available for _anything_ that he might need, day or _night_. He had thanked her as though he didn’t know what she was offering and sent her on her way.

The next place she was placed might not be with a man who had his reservations.

“My sister,” he answered.

Clara seemed surprised but nodded and left. He sat at his desk and watched the minutes tick by, faster than they had before.

***

“Okay,” she wiped under her eyes and turned to him, “How do I look?”

Mo started and she grinned and knelt down. As was his habit he sat on his hind legs and wrapped his front legs around her in a hug. She rubbed his back, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“Think Robb’ll think so?,” she asked and Mo sighed against her making her giggle.

She had learned in their first few days together that he was the best decision she’d ever made. Sure he had a few things to work through, but Robb had been right. He was loyal and protective and gave her an unconditional love she’d never really had before.

She kissed his soft ear and stood up, helping him back down. Once again she looked in the mirror, turning this way and that.

Her outfit was simple, a pair of figure-hugging dark jeans and a high neck/low back white tank top, a pair of booties comfortable enough to walk or dance in. She never knew where she was going to end up when she went out with Gendry. As he owned a bar in the West Hamlet, he knew _everyone_ in the restaurant and bar scene in the city. He’d taken her to speakeasy’s in townhouses in her neighborhood, to underground dance clubs in Flea Bottom, so she always liked to dress prepared for an adventure.

She rarely wore make-up but she had put on a bit of mascara and a berry red lip, and had blow dried her hair until it hung in soft, bedroom waves all around her face.

She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Robb since this morning. It had felt like he was going to ask her out, but she couldn’t be sure. He could have just been about to say _and if not tonight another night_. There was something in his eyes that made her think it was the former.

She had thought she was going to need more time. But now the minutes ticked by _slowly_ until she felt like she’d go crazy until the next time she saw him. She ate greasy take out food just to be with him and she loved hearing about his day - even when he claimed it was boring - and the way his smile lit up his whole face when he saw her.

Every time she was with him felt like dancing on the edge of a needle. Precarious and exhilarating. Knowing that at any moment she could fall forever. Wondering if she already had.

“Do you want to come see Robb?,” she asked Mo.

He stood up immediately, his whole body wiggling. She started wiggling too. Mo totally got her.

She hadn’t spoken to Robb, but she knew he was usually home from work by now. Gendry had texted saying he’d be ready to meet up at 10, so she was going to see if Robb wanted to grab a drink beforehand, or maybe some dinner.

And really she wanted to know if she was right about what she thought he was going to ask her.

“Alright, come on then,” she said to Mo and she shut off her bathroom light.

They walked through her apartment and she grabbed her keys off the front table and opened the door for Mo.

Her stomach was aflutter as she walked the short distance to Robb’s apartment. She fluffed her hair once more and closed her eyes when she pressed the doorbell. As though he’d been expecting her, the door opened a moment later.

She opened her eyes but her grin faded immediately. Because it wasn’t Robb who answered the door.

It was a beautiful girl, dressed only in a towel.

“Oh!,” she said stupidly.

The girl raised her _very_ enviable eyebrows at her, “Hello.”

Grey Wind appeared a moment later and nearly tackled her, and she distracted herself by petting him, not wanting to glance at the girl’s toned arms or wide eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she said, feeling like an idiot.

She had really thought that there was something between her and Robb. And he seemed different. She knew that he wouldn’t wait around forever, but it had only been a couple of weeks and all of his actions had suggested he’d wait a good deal longer than that.

Maybe she’d been wrong though.

“I-,” she started but then a voice stopped her.

“What’s the matter with you? You can’t answer the door like that!,” Robb exclaimed behind her.

Myrcella didn’t want to look at him, knowing he’d see it all over her face, so she started walking towards her apartment.

“I’ll um, just see you later,” she said, leaving them to sort out whatever marital spat they were about to have.

She heard the girl say something in a snarky voice as her door closed behind her. And then she let herself fall to the floor, her back against her door.

Mo laid his head in her lap and she stroked his head. She felt like such a fool. She’d never felt like this with Harry, because she’d never expected more from him. She was so mad at herself, for holding back, but she also wondered if —

_Bang!_

“Myrcella?,” she heard Robb call on the other side.

She stood up and checked her reflection, pinching some color into her cheeks and then opened the door.

“Hey,” she said breezily, as though she hadn’t just fled his presence.

His brows quirked when he saw her, “Hey, sorry about that.”

She shook her head, “No, no problem. I shouldn’t just stop by without calling, I um, sorry if I was rude to your…friend.”

“You can stop by whenever you want,” he told her kindly, “And that’s not my friend, that’s my sister Arya.”

“Your sister?,” she asked.

His eyes roamed over her face and a smile overtook it even as his eyes tinged at the edges. His voice was unsteady, “Yeah… you’re smiling.”

“Am I?,” she asked. He nodded. “So are you.”

“Oh,” he grinned wider.

She let out a giggle and he chuckled shakily. They stood there staring at one another as Mo prostrated himself at Robb’s feet, looking for affection.

That dog really _did_ get her.

Robb knelt down and pet him, stroking his belly, and looked up at her.

“So, um, what did you…I mean why were you…,” Robb started.

“I was coming by to see if you still wanted to come out with Gendry and I. He can get together around 10 and I wasn’t sure if you wanted to grab a drink or dinner but…you’re obviously busy now so -“

“I’m not, I mean I _am_ , but…,” he stood up, ignoring a grunt from Mo. “Arya just sort of came into town unexpectedly and, well, if you wouldn’t mind her tagging along, maybe we could all go out together? I was…looking forward to it.”

“Me too,” she said. “And I don’t mind at all, and Gendry definitely won’t. I can come get you guys at 9:30 and we can head over to meet him…”

“Okay,” Robb said and then looked at her, “Or…I just got a lot of pizza and you could come hang out, if you wanted. And get to know her a bit.”

Myrcella bit her lip, “Well, don’t you want time just on your own?”

Robb stepped closer to her and she looked up at him. It was a strange time for him to kiss her but she wasn’t going to protest either.

Instead though he said quietly, “There’s actually a lot of things I want to ask her that I _shouldn’t_ the first night she’s here, so you’d be saving me a bit.”

“Oh,” she nodded, and saw for the first time the trepidation in his eyes. She touched his upper arm, trying not to think about the muscles she felt and rubbed it gently, “It’d be nice to save you for a change.”

***

It was 9:45, but he was having a hard time getting Myrcella and Arya off the couch to go meet Gendry.

Though things had been a little slow moving at first. Arya had come out of his room wearing jeans and a tank top, her hair still wrapped in a towel and asked Myrcella if she was his girlfriend.

Myrcella hadn’t missed a beat and said, “ _Just the wacky neighbor,_ ” but even still, the weight of what she’d basically just admitted to him hung between them and his little sister was far too astute not to notice.

She and Myrcella were quite different, but when they realized that something they had in common was taking the piss out of him they got along famously. He was happy to be the cause of their jokes if it meant they both were laughing, but he knew they were meant to be meeting Gendry at 10 and it’d take at least twenty minutes to get where they were going.

“Come onnnnn ladies,” he rallied like a school teacher, “You’ll have more than enough time to make fun of me in the taxi.”

Arya giggled and shook her head, “Oh there’s _never_ enough time for that.”

Myrcella chuckled as well, but stood up and grabbed the dishes they’d eaten the pizza off of and brought them into the kitchen. Arya made kissy faces at him and he flipped her off which she returned in kind.

He grabbed his beer bottle and Arya’s wine glass and followed Myrcella into the kitchen.

Her back was to him, her exposed back, and he felt the nerves all over again.

“You can just leave those,” he told her.

“I don’t mind,” she said, and turned and reached for Arya’s glass.

He stepped forward and handed it to her and watched as she rinsed it, the water coating the glass and her hands.

He grabbed a towel and held his hand out for the wine glass, and they switched. Their hands touching one another’s when they did.

It had happened before, more than once. Somehow they always wound up touching one another in some way. It was mostly him, but sometimes it was here.

And she wasn’t pulling away.

“Did I tell you that you look beautiful?,” he asked.

She scrunched her nose adorably, pretending to consider it, “No, I don’t think so.”

“Oh,” he nodded and put the wine glass in the dishwasher. He let it just hang there until she turned to look at him curiously. He grinned triumphantly and said, “Well, you do.”

“So do you,” she said breezily. He chuckled and she nudged her hip against his, “Always do.”

He wanted to grab her and pull her to him and kiss the life out of her. It was torture standing so close to her and not being able to - especially because it seemed like she wanted him to.

“Myrcella,” he said softly.

His hand was resting on the counter and suddenly her small hand was on top of it.

“I…,” she started, but then he interlaced their fingers and she seemed to forget what she was going to say.

Their arms were now fused together and her head moved slowly towards his. He moved just as slowly, terrified of breaking the spell. Her temple met his jaw, and he found himself nuzzling at her the way Grey Wind might. He lifted their hands off the counter and began to turn her.

“You guys ready?,” Arya asked.

It was like a bucket of cold water and he and Myrcella sprung away from each other. He looked at Arya and she gave him an innocent expression, which made him have to hold back a growl.

“I um…,” Myrcella started in a dazed voice. The knowledge of how he’d affected her shot right to an inconvenient place and he cleared his throat. “I’ll just bring Mo back and go grab my bag and then we can head out.”

She left the kitchen and he shook his head at Arya who smiled at him and they both followed Myrcella back into the hall.

“Alright, come on buddy,” she cooed at Mo.

Mo loyally started following her into the hallway. As did Grey Wind.

“Come on boy,” Robb followed him, but stubbornly Grey Wind continued to follow her.

She said, “Maybe they can hang out together while they’re gone. I don’t mind if you don’t.”

He nodded at her and she smiled and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, and if he’d wanted to kiss her before it was nothing compared to now. He made sure he had his wallet and keys and then he and Arya waited in the hallway for her.

They heard her cooing at Mo and Grey Wind and then she appeared a moment later wearing a thin leather jacket and holding a bag in her hand.

“Ready?,” she asked.

“I know Robb is,” Arya replied.

***

It was loud and crowded inside.

“I love it!,” Arya shouted at her and she couldn’t help but grin.

Gendry always knew the best spots and she was certain this place would be written up in the next month or so, once everyone had moved onto the next place.

Myrcella nodded at her and took off her jacket, hooking it over her arm. She looked back at Robb who grinned, his faced bathed in a dark red light.

“You’re not going to sacrifice me are you?,” he asked in her ear.

“Not yet,” she grinned and then someone jostled her.

She felt his hand on her back steadying her and she reached behind her and took hold of his hand, interlacing their fingers as he had before they left. He squeezed her hand and she turned back around to keep wading through the crowd.

“This way I think,” she shouted, pointing with her free hand to where she imagined the back bar would be.

They made their way through the packed bar. She recognized the song as from a band she’d seen play with Tommen, Shireen and Gendry last summer, and the crowd was more or less what she’d expect. Club kids and preps, a few aging restauranteurs and the models they paid to hang out with them.

She saw a girl in one of the specialist departments and waved to her and then continued on through. Standing on her tip toes she saw a head of brown hair and a pair of broad shoulders that had to belong to Gendry and she waded through.

She let go of Robb’s hand and placed herself in front of Gendry.

“Hey little one!,” he grinned when he saw her, lifting her off the ground into a hug.

She hugged him back, and saw Robb smiling at her over Gendry’s shoulder.

“I brought some friends,” she told Gendry and he turned around still holding her.

And then unceremoniously dropped her.

“Gendry!,” she reprimanded.

“Arya?!,” Gendry demanded.

“Hey,” Arya said coolly.

“What is happening!?,” Robb wondered, echoing her sentiments.

She had never seen two people look at one another the way Gendry and Arya were looking at each other now. It was with a mixture of anger, and happiness, lust and repression all at once.

“Did you miss me?,” Arya asked.

“Really?,” Gendry asked her. Arya shrugged. He chuckled and shook his head and then signaled to the bartender, “Four shots of whiskey,” and then turned to Robb and held out his hand, “Hey man, I’m Gendry.”

“Robb, nice to meet you,” Robb said, shaking his hand politely though obviously curious about how he knew Arya.

It wouldn’t take Myrcella more than one guess as to how they knew each other.

The bartender deposited four shots in front of him and Gendry distributed them out.

“Want me to get you a chaser?,” he asked her.

She felt Robb and Arya’s eyes on her and she shook her head, refusing to be the weak link. She held her glass up and the all clinked and she threw hers back.

It burned down her throat and she couldn’t help but shake her head as she placed the glass back down on the bar.

“So,” she said, “Where did you two meet?”

“And when?,” Robb asked.

Arya grinned and waved her hand in front of her brother’s face, “Patience, darling. All will be revealed.”

Robb tried not to laugh but it didn’t work, and he signaled to the bartender for another round. Just as quickly four shots were placed in front of them and Myrcella took hers and cheers’ed everyone and then handed her glass to Gendry after he’d swallowed his own.

He draped his arm around her shoulders and drank it for her, knowing full well that she’d never be able to keep up at this rate.

The song changed and it was an upbeat, beachy rock song that made her ready to move.

“Robb,” she said and his gaze turned to her. “Why don’t we let them catch up?”

He nodded at her and placed his glass down on the bar and held out his hand for her. She took it and let him lead her through the crowd, neither of them bothering to look back. She had very little interest in watching Gendry and Arya dance around each other and she knew that whatever they needed to say wouldn’t be said in front of Robb.

He brought her into the center of the dance floor and she started moving her hips and head to the beat. He started bopping his head too, though he was stiff so she grabbed his hands.

“You just have to moooove,” she grinned.

“It’s not my biggest talent,” he told her. The beat took up so she started jumping up and down. He chuckled, “What are you doing?”

“It’s fun!,” she shouted back.

She closed her eyes and kept jumping, her hips and her shoulders and her head moving to the beat and not. It felt good to move, to be surrounded by people, to feel the base in her chest and the blood in her veins, her hands in his.

When she opened them she saw that he had started to move as well. He was right, he wasn’t a great dancer but it didn’t matter.

“There you go!,” she grinned.

“Why is this so fun?,” Robb shouted as he started jumping too.

She shrugged and let go of his hands, throwing her arms up in the air, her hips moving to the beat. He grabbed one of her hands and spun her around and she spun again and again.

He pulled her close, his arm around her back, and she held his broad shoulders in her hands.

“Before, earlier,” he shouted in her ear. “Who did you think Arya was?”

Her skin felt cold and her blood felt warm and they were still moving to the beat.

“Someone who wasn’t your sister,” she said, arching her back so that she could look him in the eye.

He shook his head, looking deeply into her eyes, “That’s not me.”

“I know,” she assured him, “I just forgot for a second.”

He nodded slowly and kept dancing, spinning her again. Somebody bumped into her and suddenly her body was fitted against his.

She felt his hand on her bare back, his fingers splayed out as though seeking to cover every inch of her. She let her hands move up his chest, and his jaw rested against her temple. She could feel his heart beating and knew that he could feel hers too.

“Robb,” she shouted.

“Yeah?,” he murmured.

She pulled away and looked up at him, “What would you say if -“

“MYRCELLA!,” she heard Gendry shouting to her left.

Whatever spell had been between them was broken and she and Robb turned in tandem. She thought she felt him groan but she couldn’t be sure as she focused on Gendry, who was holding her jacket. Arya was standing next to him.

“Yeah?,” she shouted back.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, gesturing towards the door, “I told Arya about Harlow + Sound.”

In truth Myrcella really didn’t care where she was if Robb would keep looking at her like he had been just then, so she simply nodded, warmth spreading through her when she felt Robb’s hand take hold of hers.

***

He’d been to Harlow + Sound once before when he’d visited King’s Landing a few months earlier, but he’d never been into the back room.

Usually he thought stuff like that was pretty stupid, a bar within a bar, but whereas Harlow + Sound could be filled with paparazzi and socialites, the back room was far more private and subdued, the music quieter and the drinks a good deal larger.

They had settled into a booth and ordered a round. He and Gendry got whiskeys neat, Arya got hers sour, and Myrcella ordered a martini. The waitress dropped off some onion rings and french fries with them, and they all dug in. He was seated next to Arya on one side, where Myrcella was lounging with Gendry on the other.

He felt Myrcella’s eyes on him every so often, even when she was filling in Gendry on what their cousin Shireen had been up to on her travels.

“So,” he took a sip of his drink and asked Arya, “Do I want to know what happened between you guys?”

Arya looked at him and for once the cool bravado shook.

“We met when I was in the Summer Isles,” she told him quietly, “I… he wanted something more, I freaked out. That old story.”

He smoothed Arya’s soft brown hair and glanced at Myrcella. She looked so happy and bright talking to her older brother, nodding along at whatever he was saying.

“There are other stories,” he said, focusing back on Arya. “You know, staying in one place doesn’t have to mean settling down.”

“What if I hurt him,” she said, “Or what if he hurts me? You know, I’m not… I’m not brave en-“

“Arya you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met,” he told her honestly.

She smiled sadly and looked down at her lap, “Not like that, not like you, or Sansa. You know… I think about her just _telling_ Jon. She just _told_ him.”

He chuckled, “Shouted it at him, more accurately.”

She looked up at him with their father’s grey eyes, “I think about how disappointed Mom and Dad are, and you. I don’t want to disappoint anyone else.”

“We’re not disappointed,” he argued and she gave him a pointed look, “Okay, _I’m_ not. I just miss the hell out of you when you’re gone. And… I think I’d feel differently if I felt like you were running towards something. And I think you were at first but now… now it’s like you’ve been running away.”

“See?,” she asked, “I’m not brave at all.”

He fought the urge to look over at Myrcella. Thinking of her standing with him in her kitchen, the first night they met. He had fallen for her already, he didn’t even put up a fight, and she’d told him then and there that she knew what he was worth. And from that point on, he knew that no matter what he’d always respect her. And he thought about her over the past few weeks. The little ways she was letting him in, the hints she gave that she never really had with Harry. And he thought about her on the dance floor and what she might have said.

What he had been waiting to hear.

“Remember what Dad always says,” he said to Arya. “The only you time you can be brave -“

“Is when you’re afraid,” Arya finished.

He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her to him. In spite of herself she allowed him cuddle her.

“So, Robb,” Gendry said and he turned his attention. Things were a little strange between the because it was obvious that both of them were far gone on the other’s sister and it was a little difficult to tell who exactly had the upper hand. “I hear you’re responsible for this little one falling in love.”

_Okay. Gendry definitely has the upper hand._

Robb avoided Myrcella’s gaze though he could see even in the dim light that she was blushing, “I….uh….”

At this point he could feel Arya’s grin on him.

“With Mo,” Gendry put him out of his misery.

Though the smile he swore he saw when Gendry raised his glass to his lips told him that he knew exactly what he’d just done.

He and Arya were terrifyingly well-suited.

He took a sip of whiskey to clear his throat and nodded, “Yeah I mean, you shoulda seen her with Grey Wind - my dog. I couldn’t believe she’d never had one.”

“She’s good at taming beasts,” Gendry informed him.

It sounded like a warning.

Robb thought of Harry and shrugged, “When she cares to, anyway.”

Because he really didn’t need one.

“So _Arya_ ,” Myrcella interjected pointedly, clearly unhappy that they were speaking about her as though she wasn’t right there, which was fair enough. “How long do you think you’ll be in town for?”

“A few days, you said, right?,” he asked, signaling their waitress so they could order another round.

Arya nodded at him and looked anywhere except Gendry when she said, “We’ll see.”

***

“I can’t believe you convinced me to leave without them,” Robb said.

“All I said was _I’m going home,_ ” she pointed out.

“ _Samedifference_ ,” he mumbled and she started laughing.

It felt like she’d laughed more tonight than she had in all those leading up to it. Or at least for a very long time. It had been laughter of surprise and genuine amusement, laughter because it felt better than nearly anything else.

They’d gone to three more bars. One was a rooftop garden, another a dingy club where they didn’t even risk having a drink, and the last was an after hours place she and Gendry had been going for years.

They seemed to keep changing partners everywhere they went. She and Arya had overlooked the city and shared secrets about their brothers. Robb had somehow surrounded her at the dingy club, making her feel safe in a place that decidedly wasn’t. And she’d sat on a barstool next to Gendry and told him he should risk it all.

She was very well aware that they were all on the same merry-go-round. And there were nervous and adoring glances thrown in equal measure as the partners switched.

It had been 3:37 and Arya had just slid in between Gendry’s legs where he sat on the barstool when she decided it was time to call it a night. She’d expected Robb to stay and chaperone and had turned to say goodbye when she felt him draping her jacket over her shoulders.

He’d hailed them a taxi and they’d sat on opposite sides of the back seat, watching the city and their pasts flash before their eyes. She saw Trystane. Dickon. Harry. Her father’s mistresses at his funeral, and the way her mother hadn’t shed a tear. Ear plugs and burnt vegetables and a pair of sad amber eyes.

“It’s good to see her?,” she wondered, thinking of Arya.

He had mentioned questions he’d had and she’d seen them hanging between them. But there had been so much love there too, and genuine, unfettered affection.

“Really good,” he confirmed. “I don’t want to get my hopes up but it feels like she may stick around.”

“I’d like that,” she said and then turned to him, “Do you think she liked me?”

“Trust me, you would have known it if she didn’t,” he smiled and then looked into her eyes, “But yeah. I know she does.”

She could see the city lights in his eyes and she’d never loved King’s Landing more than she did in that moment. She held his gaze and slid over on the seat.

His face asked her a question and she leaned her head on his shoulder.

“We keep getting inter-,” Robb started but then the taxi slowed to a stop.

She could have sworn she heard him say _for fuck’s sake_ under his breath, but the thanked the driver politely and handed him a twenty. He opened the door and held out his hand for her, and she placed hers in it readily.

“Hi Sid,” she greeted her favorite doorman with a grin.

“Hello Miss Myrcella,” he smiled at her and then at Robb, “Good to see you Robb.”

“As always, Sid,” Robb nodded. “Your wife feeling better?”

“She is, and she loved your flowers, Miss Myrcella,” he informed her and she grinned.

“Wait you have his _address_?,” Robb questioned.

She covered her mouth from Robb’s view and pointed at him, stage whispering at Sid, “ _He’s new._ ”

Sid chuckled, “Goodnight kids,” which her and Robb returned as though they were still children.

They road the elevator up in silence, the air crackling between them. She could feel it, the pin’s edge, and herself, teeter-tottering on it. She wondered if she’d take him down with her. She wondered if he wasn’t the one who was going to pull her down.

The elevator doors opened and he gestured for her to step out so he did. She walked slowly to her door and felt him walking behind her. She reached into her bag to grab her keys and turned around.

“I had a really nice time,” she told him.

“Me too,” he told her, “It was a great idea. Thanks for thinking of me.”

“I can’t really help it,” she all but blurted out.

“Yeah,” he agreed, his hand brushing her hair behind her ear, his thumb tracing her cheekbone. “I know what that’s like.”

“Robb…,” she started, reaching out to hold him or maybe just to touch him.

Her hand found his chest, over his heart. It was beating wildly and somehow it steadied her own. He looked down at her hand and covered it with his.

“Myrcella I want this so badly,” he said, a hitch in his voice. “It’s all I think about. You’re all I think about. Every second of every day… But it’s late and we’ve had a bit to drink and I think I should kiss you on your cheek and tell you to sleep well and in the morning I’m going to call you, way too early, and I’m going to say that I know it’s last minute but I’d really like to take you out tonight. And I’m going to take you somewhere and we’re going to talk just the two of us, and if you still want this - me - then, then I’m yours.”

She was disappointed, but he was right. It was late and they’d had a bit to drink though she’d never felt more sober in her life, and for the first time in her life she knew exactly how she was going to feel tomorrow and there was something so hopeful in that, which almost made the waiting worth it.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he resigned. And then he leaned forward and pressed his lips to the cheek he wasn’t holding. They felt warm and steady and like a million anticipations against her skin. “Sleep well.”

“Goodnight,” she barely managed, her mouth completely dry.

She unlocked her apartment and went inside. She felt a snout at her thighs so she pet it as she went to turn on the light, but then another one was there too.

“Oh! Grey Wind,” she realized.

As the light flicked on a pair of happy dog faces greeted her and she pet them both. She had completely forgotten that they’d left them both in her apartment and she -

_Knock!_

She opened the door and smiled, teasing, “Forget something?”

There was nothing teasing about Robb, none of the softness that had just been in his gaze. He looked like a man starved, desperate and wanting.

And then he closed the distance between them, breathing out, “Yes,” before he wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her chin up, lowering his lips to hers.

And just like that, she fell right off the pin’s edge.

She’d been kissed a good deal in her life, but never like this. Nothing in her life had ever felt like this.

She held onto his shoulder and her other hand found its way into his hair, feeling his soft curls. He was gentle and demanding and she gave herself up to all of it.

His kiss slowed and then they became soft, gentle presses of his lips to hers. Until finally and all together too soon he pulled away.

He stroked her cheek and gave her a lovesick smile that she knew must be matched by her own, his eyes wandering over hers, mesmerized.

“I…,” she started and he leaned his forehead against hers, “Meant Grey Wind.”

Robb looked down and so did she, and there they were, looking up at them in contentment.

“Oh, hey boy,” Robb said in surprise. And then furrowed his brow, “I uh, should take him out. I can take Mo too, if you want me to.”

She handed him her keys and reached in the hall closet for the leash.

“I’m going to go get ready for bed,” she told him, walking away, not being able to help but turn around and say devilishly, “You can come tuck me in when you’re done.”

She disappeared into her bedroom and smiled to herself when she heard Robb bang her door shut in his hurry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you we think???
> 
> Also, I sincerely apologize if you felt like Arya's characterization was off. I was very much basing it off of the show more than the books, and also just for... the story? I promise I love her and she will be a shining star in however many more chapters there are of this.
> 
> Also I knowwwwww the "did you forget something" thing is so cliche but I felt like it just worked here??? I hope you do too.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's just call a spade a spade, this is PURE FLUFF. I wanted to wrap this up, and I hope you all enjoy it!

The birds were chirping. Their song seemingly hadn’t stopped since Robb had kissed her nearly a week ago.

Every morning the sun was shining, the breeze was warm, and the birds honored her with their melody. Someone else might have pointed out that it had actually rained on Tuesday and that the _breeze_ had gotten so wild the other night that a few homes actually lost power but Myrcella was not those people.

Because Myrcella had been kissed by Robb Stark nearly a week ago. And every day since then.

She sat at her window seat now, Mo with her, his head resting on her calves. She was looking out at the city and he at the inside of his eyelids, both perfectly happy with their vocation. Some blackberry iced tea sat half drank collecting condensation next to her, a glossy fashion magazine opened to an op-ed about denim forgotten on her lap.

Mo let out an audible sigh and she leaned forward and stroked his soft ears. They were warmed by the sunlight and she stroked his cheek and the top of his head. She was used to the contentment she felt with him and now could just enjoy it.

_Bang, bang!_

The way Mo woke but didn’t bark let her know it was Robb just as much as the familiar, oafish knock.

“Come in!,” she called, smiling as Mo stood up on the seat and shook the sleep off of him before hopping down and running to the front door.

“Hello!,” she heard Robb greeting him and all of a sudden Grey Wind came running into the room.

“Hi handsome,” she greeted him as he hopped up on the window seat and forced himself between her legs.

He settled with a _humph_ , his large body nearly entirely on hers, his head against her chest.

“Grey Wind,” Robb lovingly admonished as he came in the room, but his dog made no move to get up.

Mo followed Robb happily, not the least bit displeased that his seat had been taken. Not when _his_ Robb was here.

“Hi,” she smiled at him, knowing her tone had a coo nearly as obvious as the birds outside.

“Wait,” Robb said and held up his phone.

She gave him a cheeky grin as he snapped a picture of her and Grey Wind and then he put the phone in his pocket and pressed his smile to hers. He supported his weight on the walls as she kissed him longer, her blood vessels popping like champagne bubbles.

“Hey,” he responded when he pulled away ever so slightly.

She was about to offer to move to the couch where there was room - barely - for everyone, when Robb picked her up and sat down with her in his lap back on the window seat. Grey Wind had grunted in annoyance but immediately settled once again when she stroked his soft fur.

His skin had turned from the time he’d been spending outside. New freckles had speckled his face and his cheeks were rosy, making his eyes look all the brighter. She leaned in and kissed him again.

“You’re warm,” he said, his hand lightly on her thigh. “Pure sunshine.”

“You’re warm,” she responded, her hand lightly on his cheek, and grinned, “Pure fire.”

He blushed to prove her point and she kissed the rosy spot.

“Arya isn’t home yet,” he informed her.

She bit her lip to hide her grin. Unlike Robb she found it perfectly acceptable for Arya to spend every night at Gendry’s. In fact _some_ might even say she encouraged it.

“I’m seeing her at 4 if you want me to deliver a message or something,” she teased.

“You’re - what, why?,” he asked.

“Yoga,” she shrugged, “She asked me if I knew of a good class.”

Robb clenched his jaw, “You know she’s _my_ sister.”

Ella nudged him, “I thought you _wanted_ us to be friends. I got a hangover to make damn _sure_ we were friends.”

He reluctantly nodded, “I do, and I know, I just… she’s been here a week and I feel like I’ve hardly seen her. You know, my parents ask for a report and I have nothing to say.”

Ella leaned her head into the crook of his neck and her body warmed as Robb’s arms immediately came around her.

“Maybe he makes her feel like this,” she offered quietly, more able to be vulnerable now that she wasn’t looking at him. His hand on her arm stayed where it was, his thumb brushing back and forth on her skin. “You know, maybe… maybe it’s…”

“I’ve never seen you at a loss for words,” Robb pointed out.

She smiled, “It’s a rarity I assure you. I just mean… maybe he’s the only person she wants to be around. Maybe when she’s around him she doesn’t feel like she needs to go on adventures, because just being with _him_ is one. Maybe she doesn’t need to talk all big and tough because he makes her feel safe. And maybe she doesn’t feel alright until he’s around.”

Robb was silent for a few minutes, his thumb continuing that steady _brush, brush, brush_. If it were someone else she might worry that she had said too much, given away the game too early, but everything he’d done since the moment she met him made her feel like he’d understand.

“And that’s how you feel now,” he said after a while.

There was no point denying it, so she didn’t. “That’s the way I feel about you.”

He wrapped his arms around her more securely and leaned his cheek against her forehead, nestling her deeper into his body.

“I was wondering what that was,” he told her. “But that’s exactly it, isn’t it? I’ve never felt it before.”

“Me neither,” she admitted. Then had to fight one more time for Arya’s sake, “So maybe that’s what she’s feeling, and if that’s the case… can you really blame her for not hanging around?”

Robb kissed her hair and uttered into her ear, “No. No, if she feels about him the way I feel about you - then I’d forgive her just about anything.”

*

“And now we’re going to go into downward facing dog, elongate your spine, breathe into your pelvis,” the instructor said.

Arya sputtered out a laugh.

Ella’s face colored as people turned to look and she bit her lip to keep from laughing along with her.

“Seriously, _breathe into my pelvis_?,” Arya asked. “Only yoga experts can achieve that one, I’d bet.”

Now Ella did start laughing, and when Arya started blowing air in the vague region of her pelvis she completely gave up trying to do the pose and crumpled to the floor.

“Ladies,” the instructor warned for the second time.

“Let’s get out of here and go to the pub,” Arya suggested.

Ella glanced at the teacher who in spite of her cloying voice looked like she was contemplating a double-homicide and nodded.

They rolled up their mats as quickly and as quietly as possible - or rather, she did. Arya made direct eye contact with the instructor and emitted quite a few sighs as she rolled hers up and grabbed her lightweight zip up.

Once they’d gotten outside Arya bumped her hip against hers and Ella bumped hers back.

“You know she’s insufferable,” Arya noted.

Ella nodded, “A little. I prefer Damien but he’s on vacation.”

“Oh I’ll just _bet_ you prefer Damien,” Arya teased.

“Arya!,” Ella blushed.

Damien happened to be a _wonderful_ instructor. He didn’t go in for all the New Age - BS, no mention of her body being a temple. He worked with a lot of professional athletes and focused on getting his client’s bodies limber and well-prepared for their week of working out.

And if he _happened_ to be 6’4’’ of rippling muscles should that really be held against him?

Arya giggled and they walked down the cobblestone street a few more blocks before she tugged Arya’s sleeve and turned down another street to a pub she liked that had a pretty back garden and plenty of seating.

Arya smiled as they walked in. The clientele was a good mix of neighborhood old-timers and young people looking for a less sceney place to spend an afternoon. They went to the bar and she ordered a Bramble and Arya ordered a Bloody Mary and then carried them outside.

There were a group of guys playing Bags so they took the table farthest away from them, that just so happened to have two overstuffed armchairs.

“This place is great,” Arya said and then took a sip of her Bloody Mary, “Just kidding, this place is _heaven._ ”

Ella smiled and sipped her Bramble. It tasted like summer.

“I’m surprised Gendry hasn’t brought you here yet, he’s the one who brought me for the first time,” she remembered.

Arya’s eyes twinkled and she shrugged, leaning back and crossing one slim leg over the other, resting her arm along the back of the chair.

“We haven’t been going out too much,” she teased.

Ella rolled her eyes, “Noted.”

Arya glanced at her and Ella glanced back. Arya raised an enviable brow, “Is that jealousy I detect?”

“Ew Gendry’s my _brother_ ,” Ella pointed out.

“Only half,” Arya teased and then stuck her tongue out. “But actually, I didn’t mean jealous of me being with _him_ I meant jealous of me being stretched out better than any yoga class ever got me on the _reg_.”

Ella held her hands to her ears, “MERCY.”

Arya giggled and took a sip of her drink and Ella lowered her hands to do the same. They sat in companionable silence for another moment.

“It’s different,” Ella pointed out. Arya looked at her so she explained, “You knew Gendry before.”

Arya was good. She didn’t lean forward, didn’t press her for details. She just took another sip of her Bloody Mary and nodded.

“I did,” she agreed. “Though it didn’t take us this long to get there the first time around.”

“It’s been a week,” Ella pointed out.

“Look babes, I’m not saying you have to do anything or not do anything and he better not be either, all I’m saying is… it doesn’t have to be this big _thing_ you know? It’s just sex.” Arya noted and then looked at her and a grimace overtook her face, “You’re not a virgin are you?”

“Of course not!,” Ella rolled her eyes. “But what if…”

“What if what?”

“You’re going to make fun of me,” Ella noted.

Arya gave her an unusually kind smile, “I promise I won’t.”

She took a sip of her Bramble, stabbing at one of the berries with her straw.

“This could be the last time I ever get a before,” Ella said, and glanced at Arya who true to her word hadn’t so much as smirked. “You know, the anticipation, the uncertainty, the build up. I might never feel it again, and so I don’t want to rush it away.”

Arya leaned forward and placed her drink down, and grey eyes looked into green, identical in this moment for their vulnerability.

“I’ll tell you the thing no one else will, if you promise not to tell anyone,” Arya said and Ella nodded, “When you find the person, _the_ person. That anticipation, that build up… it never really goes away.”

Ella ruminated on that for a moment and took another sip, settling back into her seat. She knew Robb wanted to sleep with her, the feeling was more than mutual, but they’d both stopped themselves before things got too intense. On her part she’d been nervous, and she knew at least a part of him didn’t want to rush her. But maybe Arya was right and she wouldn’t mind that her first with Robb was her last first time ever, because every time with him would be new and special. Maybe that’s how -

“Wait, are you saying that -,” Ella started.

“I’m saying nothing,” Arya interrupted her. Then raised her brows and reminded her, “And neither are you.”

Ella smiled at her in agreement and then took another sip. She’d respect Arya’s wishes and not say a thing.

But somehow she’d have to assure Robb that he wasn’t losing his baby sister any time soon.

***

“Seriously they suck,” Jon noted.

Robb had to agree. He considered switching the channel but that would kind of defeat the purpose of _watching the game_ with Jon. It was hard to sit through a blowout though, particularly when it was your team that was being blown out.

“They really do,” Robb said as he took a sip of beer.

Mo and Grey Wind lay on either side of them, Grey Wind’s head on top of Mo’s on his lap. He’d offered to take Mo for a walk while Ella was at yoga with Arya, and he’d ended up taking them for a hike and they were both pretty beat.

“DO YOU NOT EVEN SEE THE BALL,” Jon yelled and Robb chuckled.

Mo’s head perked up and Grey Wind grunted but then his did as well, both of them standing up on the couch and shaking their bodies. That could only mean one thing.

“I gotta go, Jon,” he noted.

He didn’t even wait to hear Jon’s goodbye before hanging up and sprinting towards the door. Robb opened it just as Ella was stepping off the elevator. She looked just as adorable as she had before she left, in her black capri yoga pants, light purple tank top and white zip-up. Her hair was still in its perky ponytail and she looked completely unmussed.

Totally unmussed.

She looked at him sheepishly, “Okay we totally bailed on yoga and went to the pub instead.”

He chuckled, her pink cheeks getting even pinker when he did. He stepped into the hall and pulled her into his arms, “I was wondering how anyone could look like this after working out.”

Without ceremony she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. Though she caught him by surprise he definitely wasn’t complaining and he lifted her off the ground so that he didn’t have to bend. He thought she might devour him in the hallway and he was absolutely ready to let her.

Her lips tasted sweet and a bit like gin, and she was still warm and one of his hands rested on her bottom and _squeezed_ and she _moaned_ and he was about to die.

Common sense got the better of him and he pulled away, peppering each word with a kiss, “Ella, Ella, Ella…shouldn’t…we… go…inside.”

“Yes,” she agreed, “Let’s.”

On _let’s_ her eyes looked into his and he felt it right in his pants. Hers were wildfire in a way that he’d never really seen them.

“I thought you wanted to wait,” he said stupidly.

“I thought I did too,” she agreed.

“Are you drunk?,” he wondered.

“Not even close,” she promised.

“Then…?,” he asked.

“I was worried,” she admitted, “That by rushing it I was… I don’t know…rushing through the good part for the last time and I didn’t -“

“The last time?,” he gulped.

Her cheeks colored and she said, “You said it…didn’t you? You told me that you were going to be _the_ guy. Didn’t you?”

He set her down and her brow furrowed but he grinned and she relaxed. He placed his thumb on her cheek and said, “Yeah, I did. And yeah… I am.”

“I’m not afraid,” she told him, “Of rushing through the good part. If it’s with you, it’s all going to be the good part.”

He grinned at her like a cheeseball, but it was okay because she was one too. For him. And she was going to be. Forever.

“So…,” he said and they both blushed, “Do you um… want to come inside?”

She grinned back up at him, “Okay…”

“Okay,” he said, picking her back up and carrying her inside.

And this time, when the door banged shut, neither of them complained.

(Though old Mr. Pycelle is a different story entirely…)


End file.
